


The Darkness Within

by geniewithwifi



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Beauty and the Beast, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Beauty and the Beast AU, F/M, Hive, Hood!Oliver, OFBB 2015, Olicity Fic Big Bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-05-10 01:51:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5564407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geniewithwifi/pseuds/geniewithwifi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity is kidnapped by the vigilante. She lives in the dark basement of what looks like a steel factory. The area is inhabited by shadows and cruel atmosphere and that’s just the walls. The man beneath the hood is worse. Felicity hates him; hates how he took her away from her family, hates how she can’t touch the computer, hates how he stole her heart from her. All comes to a head when she realizes that she’ll have to fight for him and sacrifice more than she’ll ever know. </p><p>Beauty and the Beast AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Medias Res

**Author's Note:**

  * For [therewasagirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/therewasagirl/gifts).



> HI GUYS!!! I'm so excited to start posting this! This is my fic bang story, so it's almost all completed. I just have to finish the last chapter. This is a Beauty and the Beast, based off a Norwegian tale. I will be updating every Sunday, so expect it then and don't forget to hit the subscribe button! 
> 
> The biggest thanks to so-caffeinated for being my cheerleader and cherchersketch for this AMAZING cover. She's awesome. This is dedicated to yellowflicker because without her as a sounding board, this wouldn't exist. I hope you enjoy!!
> 
> Reviews are encourage, but as always, not necessary. They just, you know, give me life and inspiration. No biggie. :))
> 
> HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

** **

 

 

**CHAPTER ONE**

Felicity wondered what she had done in her past life to deserve this. Maybe she had stolen food from a homeless man or flashed some innocent nuns. It could have even buying some of those “Satan panties” her mom had forbidden her from buying. It must have been really bad for her to deserve this.

A visit from the green-hooded vigilante.

Maybe it was her stepfather that he was after. The arrow the vigilante was wielding was pointed in his direction. Why the criminal decided it would be a good thing to threaten a cop, Felicity didn’t know. However insane it might be, the glaring truth was that the murderer was _threatening a cop._

He had burst through the window of their home, sending shards everywhere and Felicity immediately lamented the loss of it as  as it would be a cold night and all the heat from the house would be sucked out the window.  The lights had gone out next from a well placed arrow, the intimidating form of the vigilante alert and menacing, his weapon aimed at her father’s heart.

Oh did she mention that the vigilante was holding her captive, her back against his finely-toned chest, the bowstring inches from her face? Well he was. If the man let the arrow fly, her face would receive the whiplash.

“Let her go.” That was Quentin, as he insisted she call him. Captain was too formal since they were family, even though she had gotten into the habit of referring to him as Detective. He held his gun at the ready. “She’s innocent.”

“Captain Lance, you have failed this city!” The distorted deep, inhuman voice sent chills down her spine.

“Let her go she has nothing to do with this!”

“You have crimes against the people of Starling! You are a corrupt cop who seeks power, not caring who he hurts. For this, justice must be served!”

He let the arrow go. The string scraped across her cheek, causing the fletching to draw a sharp cut in her skin. Pain radiated from the spot as well as a sticky wetness. Her instinctive response was to clutch her hand to her cheek. As she did so, the man grabbed her wrist and flung her down to the floor, drawing another arrow.

Felicity had half a mind to tell the man off, the weapon be damned. That _hurt,_ and the odious man had no reason to treat her that way. A glance at her stepfather smothered the indignation immediately.

The arrow had pierced his shoulder, a welling of blood coming up around the wound. It had nicked an artery, and with his heart condition, was in great need of medical care.

If the vigilante fired another arrow, he _would_ kill her father.

Desperation caused her to do something that she would later regret, but in the end changed her life immensely. Her mother would not survive losing another husband, Laurel and Sara their father. Felicity couldn’t bear to even imagine the thought of a man who had become like a  father to her dying at the hands of a madman. With this thought in mind, she stood and faced the mass murderer.

“Stop. Please. If you shoot another arrow, my stepfather will die. He has a heart condition. If he doesn’t make it to the hospital soon, he will go into cardiac arrest. Please. Stop.”

His sharp gaze turned to her, hostility rolling off him in waves. “Justice must be served.”

“Then take my life instead!” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to take them back. She liked her life, and there was no telling what the man would do. He could kill her or _worse._ Her imagination ran wild with all the horrifying possibilities.

He stared at her, his mouth tightening into a thin line, disappearing under his dark scruff, jaw stiffly clenched. His eyes, dark under his hood, darted to Detective Lance, who was slumped against the wall. Her mother hovered over him, hands pressed against his shoulder around the arrow, but Felicity could see the dark liquid spilling out from underneath her mother’s hands. Laurel was crouched behind the chair. Sara was thankfully absent right then, visiting a friend out of town. it would be one less person to witness the horrifying sight of the man in green. The vigilante’s eyes swung back to her the next instant.

“Felicity no!” Laurel moved from her hiding place. “Don’t! Don’t throw your life away. You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

“Laurel…” Felicity’s resolve hardened. She would do this, for all of them. “I have to.” She turned to the vigilante. “Take me in my father’s stead. Whatever crimes you find him guilty of I will gladly pay the price.”

Of her own volition, she reached out and placed her hand on the vigilante’s gloved one, the one still holding the arrow. It released at her touch, but didn’t hit her father. Instead it hit the family portrait on the fireplace mantle, puncturing and destroying her image. What a fitting action to her plight.

“Done.” That hand wrapped around her own, the soft leather sliding against her palm. It tightened, and she became a fish on a line, being tugged away from her home into the unknown.

To the fisherman’s basket she went.

* * *

He must have drugged her somehow. That’s the only explanation. She had been on a sleek black motorcycle, her hands wrapped around his chest (his back was just as finely toned as his chest. Was there any part of him that wasn’t muscular?). Her legs had been spooning his (nope, everything about him was hard) and her hands being bound in front of him, strapping her to his body so she wouldn’t slip off. The next thing she was aware of was lying in the dark on a very inviting bed.

She tried to sit up, to see more than the steel beams above her head but a handcuff around her left wrist snapped her back, her head hitting the pillow roughly.

“Ufff” Felicity huffed, turning her head to the side. She was in some kind of basement, the lack of windows her first clue. Well, it could be some kind of shed, but the lack of any wood destroyed that notion. The steelwork of the ceiling suggested warehouse, unless the vigilante had designed his house to look like a factory in which case she wasn’t judging him. Nope. A person could have their own style about where they lived. She definitely didn’t begrudge a rat for living in the sewer. It’s just she herself would never want to live there.

And now she was comparing a vigilante to a rat.  In her defense, he was just as reviling as one, the murderer. He had given her no choice (okay she had had one but it was a rock and a hard place and she chose the rock) and had basically Persephoned her away to his dark dungeon.

Though probably a dungeon would not have included such a soft bed.  A _very large_ soft bed.

It was roughly Queen sized, with a fancy headboard. The covers were all in green; the sheets a lighter green whereas the comforter was as dark as the vigilante’s suit.

She was _in his bed._

That thought alone freaked her out.  Felicity sat up as much as she could, hunkering over her bound hand.  Her breaths came a little faster and  her heart sped up.

This had been a very bad idea.

At her motion, two different voices spoke up. The first one was human, cadence she didn’t recognize. The second happened to be the tonelessness of the hooded man.

“Sleeping beauty’s awake.” The unfamiliar voice remarked

“Easy there.” The voice sent shivers of hate down her spine.

She glared up at the darken shadow that approached from an area she had missed in her perusal. How had she had failed to notice it? It was flooded with dim light! Instead she was focused on the _rafters. Idiot!_ There was even a computer set up! One that she could see from here was severely lacking.

“Let me go.” Felicity demanded of him, tugging at her handcuff in emphasis.

“You agreed to this. The Captain’s life for yours. His punishment is now upon your shoulders. You will stay here until I say otherwise. “

Felicity spat at him in response.

“It seems the girl has claws.” The dry humor came from the other man in the room. He was tall, and big, bigger than the vigilante, his dark skin a contrast to the pale of his companion. Good. Someone who could help her.

He must have seen the plea in her eyes because the man’s countenance darkened. “You won’t be getting help from me, missy. I’m the one that keeps him” a jab at the man towering over her, “in line.”

At the words the coil in her gut wound tighter. If the Hood was on a leash and he murdered people in cold blood, her imagination went wild at the thought of him being lset free.

The image was a terrorizing one.

Slashes to an unknown neck, blood pouring out, the leather encased hand  wrapped around the throat, dipping in the red liquid. A croaking laughter accompanied the vision, sealing the deal. Her captor was a madman and the dark-skinned man was the only thing holding him back.

She scooted back against the headboard, as far as her handcuffed hand would let her. The smile she thought would appear on the hooded man’s jaw from her recoiling fear was absent, she saw a tense frown instead, as though he was regretful at her actions.

Huh.

The notion vanished with his next words. “Cellphone. Now.” The gloved hand was held out for the requested item. Felicity shook her head. From what she could see of the computer set-up, it was poor workmanship and hurt her pride. There was no way she was going to let the vigilante with his big man-hands and no appreciation for technology touch one of her prized possessions.

An impatient sigh. “Come on. I didn’t do it earlier because I didn’t think you wanted me to search you.”

She couldn’t hide her involuntary shudder at the thought of those fingers poking and prodding and doing who-knows-what else to her.

“If you don’t give it to me, I _will_ find it. And you won’t like how. “

Her hand went to her pocket of its own accord, drawing out the smart phone. She whimpered as her last remaining hope diminished. She had nothing without her tech.

“Very good.” He praised, the light-hearted words empty. He drew it from her hand, and then to her horror, smashed it against the ground, stomping on it with his boot. Glass scattered and the mangled plastic and aluminum shriveled up into a flat pancake.

Felicity gasped, reaching out for the abused electronic. “How—how? Why? Why would you do such a thing?!”

“From what I hear you’re good with computers. And I can’t let you contact anyone from the outside world. You are my prisoner and this is your prison.”

“And you should know that anybody that mistreats any sort of machine like you do will get what’s coming for them. They always do.” Felicity retaliated.

The vigilante neglected a response, turning away, and tossing the phone in a trashcan. That simple action was symbolic for her situation. Broken and thrown away.

* * *

Felicity couldn’t help it, she crumpled. She had never thought herself one of those girls, the ones that would panic at the sight of danger. But the tears came and she let them, flowing past her cheeks and leaving salt stains and a red nose.

They must have heard her, for all her attempts at being quiet. They bustled about, doing something with low, hushed voices. Then came slamming of metal and grunts of pain. After about two hours it stopped, the silence echoing off the concrete.

Footsteps approached her bed. Blearily, she glanced out of the corner of her eye at the approaching figure. Finding that it wasn’t the Hood, she gave him her full attention. He sat on the corner of the bed, the mattress dipping from his weight. He radiated a sense of calm, something she didn’t expect from anyone that had kidnapped her.

“Hey,” he spoke softly, like one would if trying not to spook a startled deer. And what was with all the animal references? Her brain was really on a roll tonight.

He reached towards her, a wet cloth held in his hand. "Let me clean this. Hold still." Only then did felicity remember the cut on her cheek from the vigilante's arrow. Wary of the man, she allowed him to clean the cut.

“Listen to me. I can’t tell you anything but there is a--”, he glanced behind his shoulder as though looking for danger, “--reason you’re here.” He said so quietly Felicity had to lead forward to hear him. “You’re scared and I get that. I get that you probably don’t trust me or him.” He got that right.  “But trust this; no harm will come to you if you do as you’re told, okay? Whatever happens, just go with it.”

Felicity looked at him curiously. Why would he say that? What was going to happen? Apprehension made her tighten her fingers. The man noticed.

“What’s your name?” He asked, throwing her for a loop. He smiled, as though sensing her nervousness.

“Felicity.” She garbled, her throat stuffed with all the crying. She coughed to clear it. “Felicity Smoak.”

“Alright, Felicity. Mine name is Diggle, you can call me Dig. I promise—you behave and everything will be just fine, okay? Oh and don’t ask about his name because we can’t give it.”

Felicity nodded again, feeling almost like a bobble head. He was throwing so many cryptic remarks that her spidey senses were tingling. There was a mystery here and she was determined to find it.

“Good. I’m leaving now, “ Dig spoke louder, obvious for the other occupant as well as her, “so you two play nice.”

A sharp look and an acknowledging nod was all Dig got from the man in the corner. Felicity whispered “bye” hesitantly. In a few short seconds she would be alone with her kidnapper.

The beast.

Her hand flashed out in panic. “Don’t leave me here, _please._ “ She begged. Diggle carefully extracted himself from her grip. His expression harden.

“You made your bed, now lie in it.”

With those stinging words from a person whom she though had compassion for her plight, he left.

Diggle’s presence has been a buffer between her and the vigilante. Now that he was gone the air breathed with tension. She held her breath, waiting for him to do something.

The wait was long. After about thirty minutes she had begun to relax. The vigilante was intent on his task, something with his arrows. He was adding chemicals into a beater before pouring it into a head attachment on one of his arrows. He carefully painted it with a color—red—before setting it aside and moving on to the next one.

The constant and consistent motion relaxed her and beyond all belief she was lulled to sleep.

The weight of something on the bed snapped her awake. It was dark, the vigilante apparently turning off the lights. She peered through darkness, her heart racing, terrified of what was happening. She could see a dark shape sitting with their back towards her. The covers drew back and the person laid down, hood and all.

The vigilante had climbed in her bed.

In an instant she leaped out, her handcuffed hand stopping her from moving too far away from the headboard.

He didn’t move. She waited. Nothing happened.

There was no way Felicity was going to spend the night next to him, nu-huh. She was the prisoner here. The least he could do since taking her life was to leave her some privacy, one that she didn’t get three hours ago when she had to relieve herself. That had been awkward. _Sleeping_ next to her captor was six ways of wrong.

 In her defense it was his fault. He had put her in this bed and chained her to it and now he was climbing in her bed. Yet, now that she was thinking about it, it was more likely that _she_ was sleeping in _his_ bed. From the looks of things this was the only bed in the whole place.

After standing there for an undetermined amount of time, Felicity resigned herself to a night on the hard floor. Not something she had planned six hours ago when she was telling Laurel that she wished she could go on adventures like Sara, tour the world, and live life with adrenaline.

Turns out she only got half her wish. The seeing the world part wasn’t included in her lifetime package. Adrenaline was there in great supply, oh yes, the fear of being chained to a bed that was bolted to the floor, in the middle of a dark, dank, dripping basement next to a rat of a man that decided it would be fun to kidnap her!

Left hand up in the air, supported by the metal cuffs, she sat against the side of the bed, her head falling against it with a clunk. It wasn’t comfortable, but she was tired and stressed and this was the only way she could sleep, a soft mattress with an undesirable bed mate notwithstanding.

Felicity must have dozed off because the next thing she knew was movement. Her arm tingled in pain as the blood rushed to her hand, as it had fallen asleep in the awkward position. She was being cradled in strong arms, arms she undoubtedly and regretfully recognized. He lifted her up and into the bed, tucking the blanket around her and walked around to his side and climbed in.

As soon as he was comfortable, she slipped out again, as quietly as she could. Not quiet enough. Felicity heard the huff of frustration as he got out and picked her up again.

They danced like this two more times until Felicity finally fell asleep and didn’t wake up. She had fallen asleep on the floor, triumphant that she had won the battle of wills. Upon waking, she realized she hadn’t. She was in the bed, and the vigilante nowhere to be found. The lights were on in the base, meaning he had some sort of presence. He had picked her up last night without waking her.

Felicity wondered why he had done it. Why not just leave her there, content on the floor. She had put up so much fuss that he should have just let her alone, but each time he had refused. He wouldn’t let her be.

So the next night she did it again. He had the same response, getting up and putting her back. Felicity tested him each and every time, night after night. She always woke in the bed.

Pride got the best of her and Felicity was determined to win this war. Or at least one battle. Because every night always ended with him winning. And it infuriated her.

Days were spent on the bed, always on the bed.  It was cold in the basement, the chill seeping through her skin. There was no light from the sun, dampening her mood. She was a self-proclaimed sun worshiper, always finding an excuse to work in the sun, whether it was just opening a window in her office or taking her tablet out to the park. She might be a tech person, but sunlight was her mojo.

Since Diggle or Green Man wouldn’t give her any electronics, she had asked Diggle (there was no way she was talking to the vigilante, nope, not going to happen) if she could have some books since she was stuck down here, for days. He shrugged and told her maybe. To her dismay, the vigilante himself brought her books, a couple of classics including Shakespeare and Dickens to more modern novels that were no longer popular and that she had already read. Felicity joked that at least he hadn’t brought her Twilight. She detested that book. Diggle had grinned at her rant, but the vigilante had just cocked his head in bewilderment, asking “What’s Twilight?” This in turn confused Felicity. Where had he been the past couple years that he didn’t know what Twilight was? 

The vigilante was seldom in the lair, as Felicity had been taken to calling it, until the clock on the computers beeped around six o clock. He would appear, silent and domineering, prowling around until either Diggle or Roy showed up.

Roy she had met the second day, a brown-hair youth with a ratty red sweatshirt. He mostly stayed at the computers and ran searches that would take him hours, the same that would take her scant a few minutes. Felicity didn’t hate Roy-- even though he abused technology in a way that pained her, deep in her soul-- the kid was too handsome for something as petty as that, plus she was reserving all of her contempt for one green leather Adonis with muscles of steel. Not that she had been looking.

It was hard not to look when he would pick up a bar and climb a ladder thingy, using pullups and momentum to move upwards. It made quite a racket so much that she wouldn’t concentrate on her book. Felicity admitted that while it would be better if he did it shirtless without the hood and mask, it was still quite impressive.

A week by her account since her kidnapping was when she broke down. Felicity opened her mouth and actually talked to the Hood from that first night.

“You know,” she called out, stopping him from picking up that bar and doing obscene things that was infinitely better than reading The Ivy Tree by Mary Stewart, “since we’re going to be spending a lot of time together, including the time you spend in my bed, I mean not in that way in such that you take me to bed and do naughty things, not that kind of in my bed but the creepy thing of just sleeping next to me even though I jump out of bed, you put me back in it. What is your point? Why are you so stubborn about it? Anyways, I can’t keep calling you the Hood or the vigilante, you must have a name, even if it’s short and not actually your name. A code name- name or whatever.”

Felicity snapped her mouth with a click, her teeth jarring together. That had been a lengthy babble, embarrassing herself all over again. It had built up in a week, like water in a dam that hadn’t been out for a while, just letting it spew forth, covering unsuspecting people with her word vomit. And she hadn’t meant to get to graphic.  She internally flinched again.

She glanced up at him, dreading his reaction. To her great surprise, a half grin was on his face, one side showing his dimples. It made him lighter, less scary, less weighed down with the world.

With startling clarity, she looked at him again. While yes, he was a criminal, perhaps he was just a man with too many burdens, lashing out in a way he only could. And if she thought about it, she had slightly admired him, before he had slapped her in cuffs and dragged her down to his torture chamber.

The Hood had only confronted criminals, people that had hurt others. He was defending Starling City, his cry of ‘you have failed this city’ resonating fear into other petty lawbreakers. By having only one king, he could keep all his subjects in line.

Perhaps it was good, in a way, but that didn’t justify the bodies in the morgue or kidnapping damsels.

His smile slipped off his face and he turned away, hiding his face in shadow.

“I can’t tell you, Felicity.” Her name rolled off his lips like a song, a haunting melody. He tilted head as he considered something. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t guess.”

“Can you give me a hint?” She countered immediately.

“I- I _can._ “ He said haltingly, as though testing out each word to see if he was permitted to say it. “It’s… kinda… like… the color… uh… green.”

“Green?”

He nodded emphatically, turning to the neglected bar and hopping up to the fourth notch.

“Like Jade? Your name is Jade?”

“Nope.” His altered voice echoed around the room.

“Hunter?”

“No.”

“I’m gonna need a Crayola box for this. Lime?”

He stopped, hanging by the bars, and she about swooned from the picture it presented. “Really?”

“Yes really.”

“No, definitely not.” He grunted, resuming his work out.

“Avocado”

“NO.”

“Just checking. Chartreuse.”

“Now you’re just getting ridiculous, Felicity.” The way her name came out, like an endearment, caused her stomach to swoop. She was _not_ going to go down that road. She wasn’t even going to look at it. Shoving the attraction to the back of her mind, she continued down her list.

“I take it that that was a no. Um, Pear? Pine? Sage!”

“No, no and no, sorry.”

“Am I anywhere close?”

“I gave you all the hints I could.”

“Mint?”

“Still no.”

“Emerald?”

He dropped down, crouching like a cat, his muscles absorbing the impact. She swallowed from the image her mind conjured from that pose. “This is a waste of time. I shouldn’t have thought…”

“Thought what?”

He didn’t answer. She had one guess left, but she didn’t think it was likely. But she wanted to do this one thing for him. He wanted to tell her, she could hear it in his voice, almost begging her to make some kind of connection with him.  So Felicity crushed down her disappointment and spoke.

“What about… Olive?”

He paused in his movements, before slowly swiveling his head in her direction. “Go on.”

It was Olive? His name was Olive? He could see her confusion because he approached the bed she sat cross-legged on.

He made a rolling motion with his hands, telling her that there was more.

“Olive, uh Olive green? Olive…err. Oh!” her eyes widened as she had unexpectedly made the connection. “Your name is Oliver.”

The resulting smile was everything and he reached out and touched her cheek. For her part, she didn’t flinch at the rough leather. Diggle entered then, destroying the moment and he left her on the sidelines, discussing a subsequent target with Diggle in jargon she didn’t understand.

But she had a name, his name, and he already felt more human to her, less like a symbol of darkness and ruthlessness, but more of the man underneath all that.

That night, she didn’t try to leave the bed for once.


	2. Scandens Actio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dislocating a thumb hurts. Thinking someone has died hurts worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT"S SUNDAY!! And since it's late here, for the rest of the world it's probably Monday. Oh well. We are clipping right along in this story. Stuff happens. Unfortunately, there is no kissing. I wish there was but not.
> 
> Reviews are encourage, but as always, not necessary.

**CHAPTER TWO**

As an afterthought, dislocating a bone _hurt._ It hurt badly, like a thousand thorns decided that it would be a good time to mark her flesh.

Felicity vowed to never dislocate a bone again.

It had been about two weeks since she had guessed the Vigilante’s name. _Oliver._ It fit him. Most of the time he was grumpy, prowling around his domain, casting dark looks in her direction. Nothing changed much, in all actuality.

Except the atmosphere. Something _had_ changed. Those dark looks held something in them that hadn’t been there before. Admiration, perhaps, or respect. Something along those lines, Felicity wasn’t sure.

At night, she would talk. It happened the night after she had guessed his name when she burrowed into her pillow and had started crying, unable to keep herself from doing so.

A hand on her shoulder startled her down off the bed. Before he could climb out and put her back in like the stubborn ass he was, she cautiously crept back in.

“What did you do that for?”

The Hood looked at her, before glancing down. “I know that this isn’t what you want.”

“What gave you that idea,” she muttered obstinately.

He ignored her. “But I didn’t have a choice. I’m—I’m…” he trailed off and Felicity peered better at him. His mouth was twisted in a grimace and it looked like it pained him to force the next words through his lips. “I’m sorry. If there is any way I could make this better—“

“You could let me go.”

“No.”Oliver said immediately, shaking his head. “Anything besides that. You can… I don’t know. Tell me about your day,” he shrugged one shoulder, “if you want. I don’t mind.”

“What am I going to talk about? I’m down here with you! All day every day twenty-four seven. You know about everything I do.”

He flinched. Then he smiled ruefully. “I don’t know your thoughts.”

Felicity huffed, turning back around.

But that night she thought over what he said. He hadn’t hurt her—yet. She’d been there barely over a week, and he hadn’t laid a hand on her besides handcuffing her to the bed, and picking her up, and touching her shoulder, not to mention destroying her technology. Okay so he had touched her, but never in a mean or angry manner. He never meant to injure her in any way.

It was disarming. He wasn’t supposed to be _kind._ She had made him out to be this horrible monster, incapable of love or emotion besides anger and death, but she could see that he was _human,_ even though he never took off that hood, to sleep, or bathe. Did he shower with that thing on? How? Better yet did he even wash himself? He never smelled bad, and she had slept next to him all that time.

Now that she was thinking about it, she felt icky. Disgusting. She hadn’t had a shower in the entire time she had been down here, chained to the bed. Perhaps she could ask… no. He wouldn’t allow it.

But what if he did let her? There was hope that he would, that he could. The worst he could say was no. Well, there was the off chance that he could kill her but she didn’t want to think about that. He had gotten her books to read. This was just a simple request.

She opened up her mouth but nothing came out. Would she be brave enough to ask the Vigilante if she could wash herself? Oh, but what if he said yes and made conditions that he shouldn’t let her out of his sight, that he had to watch her get naked. That was almost worse than not showering.

She flopped on her back, staring up at the grim rafters. To ask or not to ask.

“I can hear you thinking.” His modified voice crackled. “What is it?”

It wasn’t a harsh question, though most people would see it as such. He was tired, impatient, having just gone out that night, and had come back with a slight limp. It should deter her, cause her to turn back and go to sleep and give the expected ‘nothing’, brushing him off.

Felicity took a chance instead.

“I was thinking about a shower.” She said simply. “And the fact that I haven’t had one and wanting to ask you if I could shower. Is there a shower down here? I’ve never noticed. There is the fact that I have been chained to the bed this whole time and haven’t had the opportunity to explore and –“

“Felicity.” He interrupted, cutting her off. “Yes, you can have a shower. You can have one tomorrow. Yes, there is a shower down here.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Is there anything else?”

“No, no that’s it.”

She turned back over, pulling the covers up and squeezing her eyes shut. She imagined that she was home, in her own bed, that it was Laurel sharing her bed and not some bow-wielding vigilante who had said yes to her stupid question—dammit.

In a small voice, as small as she could make it, hoping he wouldn’t hear her, she whispered a quiet “Thank you.”

Right before she was lost to the black, he whispered back.

“Of course, Felicity.”

After that night, she would ask him random things. What his favorite smell was, if he preferred Windows over Apple, what the difference was between his usual bow and the wooden bow she could see peeking out of a green box. He answered what he could, in great detail on some aspects and a one word answer to others. Some he remained silent on.

The more he talked, the more questions she had, the more she understood him. He told her about his sister, the adventures they had. Oliver would talk in a wistful voice, the loss of his childhood, the pain of remembrance. From the way he described his sister, she sounded like a beautiful child, a carefree, high active spirit. The underlying melancholy to his voice told her something tragic had happened to his sister. Something that had hurt him deeply, caused him to change. Grief would do that to a person.

Perhaps whatever happened to Thea, had made him this way.

People did terrible things when they were in pain. The Vigilante could be seeking revenge on the people he killed, though she doubted that they all had something to do with Thea. Perhaps taking it out on other people when he couldn’t touch the one that had hurt him the most helped him feel better.

It didn’t justify murder though.

In response to his stories, she would tell him hers. She told him about growing up in Vegas, of learning to count cards at an early age. She would sit at the bar and watch people play blackjack, learning and understanding the game. Felicity kept track of the colors and numbers and faces of cards.

Her mother had given her a deck of cards for Hannukah one year. Felicity had been so excited and used them to her best advantage in the casino. Every time two cards came out, she would pull the exact same cards from her deck. Eventually, she learned to calculate the probability that a card would show up from the remaining cards before the dealer shuffled the deck.

She won more than half the time.

The Hood laughed sometimes at her stories, blue eyes twinkling behind his mask. His smile lit up his features, as much as she could see, turning him from a cold, emotionless symbol into something touchable. Something concrete.

A friend.

The day Felicity realized that she had the potential to like him, an actuality that terrified her, she dropped her book from the shock. No way should she be friends with a vigilante that almost killed her father. But the more she thought about it, the more it felt like The Hood had had no choice.

Though he did. He had driven an arrow into her father and threatened to release a second one. If Felicity hadn’t offered herself, Captain Lance would have been dead.

She couldn’t be friends with someone who was going to kill her father. But for some inexplicable reason, she was.

Felicity wanted to hate him, to hold onto that anger that had lit her fire for the first couple of days she had spent in the basement. He was a murder. The Vigilante killed people.

But the stories he told her, the man he portrayed that loved his sister so much contradicted her idea of the beast. How could a man that would do anything for little Thea turn into this cold blooded killer?

He presented a paradox, a mystery that she was aching to unravel. Felicity cared for this monster, against her better judgement, and it scared her.

A clanging of the door startled her. A muffled groan accompanied by a dragging sound, thumping down the short stairs from the outside. Felicity cowered against the headboard, a pillow between her and the unknown.

The figure stumbled a couple of paces, leaning heavily against the support beam driven into the floor. She could only half see the figure over her pillow, made worse with them half hidden in shadow.

They took a couple more limping steps, groaning and shuffling before collapsing on the hard concrete. A bow skittered away from him, for she recognized it a second before she recognized the hood.

Oliver.

Throwing the pillow away from her, ignoring the fact that it fell over the edge of the bed, she leaned forward, climbing off the bed towards him. The handcuff stopped her. Felicity tugged at it.

“Oliver.” She called to him. She watched him raise his head to look over at her, attempting to raise himself up. His arms shook, holding his weight, and that’s when she saw it.

The blood.

It pooled beneath him, a steady drip coming from his shoulder. He was injured. Barely had the thought crossed her mind when she realized how stupid that observation was. Of course he was injured. The limping and the shuffling and the collapsing definitely screamed that he was injured.

But this was more than just a cracked rib or a bruised knee. This was life-threatening.

Throwing her qualms aside, she once again moved towards him when he fell back into the puddle of red. He needed her help. But she needed to get out of these cuffs.

“Green one! Vigilante! This isn’t funny.” She tried again. He opened his eyes, but made no effort to try and move a second time. “I want to help you, but these cuffs. Where’s the key?”

The Hood’s only response was to close his eyes again.

“Hey! Come on! I need you to help me help you. Oliver!” Still nothing. He was dying on her and these stupid cuffs were prohibiting her.

She tugged again. They were firmly attached to the wooden headboard and she wasn’t strong enough to break the wood. Felicity looked around for anything she could use to pick the lock, a bobby pin, a staple, a piece of wire. Anything.

There was nothing.

Glaring at the cuffs wasn’t helping either. She had not magically gained laser vision in the past two seconds and for the foreseeable future she wouldn’t be getting it anytime soon.

There was only two options left.

One: Let The Hood die. If he was dead, perhaps Diggle and Roy would let her go. But this option was unthinkable-- she was too honorable a person to let anyone die, even for a man such as Oliver. He was her friend, conscience be damned.

Two: dislocate her thumb. It would hurt like a bitch and be very painful, and she would be down a hand, but she would still have one hand to help The Hood.

Option number two it was. She slammed her hand against the headboard and pulled at the same time. A slight pop, excruciating pain, and a scream later, she was free. She hustled over to the prone man, her legs screaming at her for disuse. Adrenaline helping dull the pain, Felicity rolled the green clad vigilante over, and unzipped his jacket, pulling it away from the wound.

There was a hole, red with welling blood, right next to his collar bone. The only thing she knew about first aid was to apply pressure. Just looking at the wound made her sick. Glancing around the main area, she spotted a gray sweatshirt. A phone lay next to it. She grabbed both, racing back to Oliver, skidding on her knees.

Using her forearm of her left hand, she put pressure on the bullet hole, leaning almost on top of his chest. With her other hand she scrolled through the contacts, searching desperately for either Roy or Diggle’s number.

There were just mostly numbers, a DD, a Derek, and… Diggle! Frantically, she pushed the call button.

Felicity panted over and over “please pick up, please pick up. Pick up! Please, just please. Pick up.” As the phone went to the fifth ring. A sixth ring. A seventh.

Finally, right before she was certain that it was going to voicemail, a click sounded.

“Oliver, man, where are you? We were certain that you were hurt, there is a trail of blood but we couldn’t find you any—“

“Diggle!” She cried, cutting over him.

“Felicity? How did you—“

“No time to explain. He’s hurt. Badly. He’s bleeding out. I’ve put pressure on the wound, but it’s slowly soaking through. I—I don’t know what to do.”

Diggle’s voice harden in a clipping tone. “Don’t move. We’re coming to you. Just keep him alive. You hear me Felicity? Don’t let him die.”

“I won’t.”

“Good.” And he hung up.

Felicity didn’t know how long it took for them to get there. It felt like hours as she watched the gray sweatshirt become pink and then red and now dark red. It started seeping onto her hands, staining them the dark color. It was wet, and sticky, and she dry heaved away from him from the smell. The iron tang filled her senses, she could taste it on her tongue so pungent was the air.

Oliver’s jaw grew paler the longer she knelt there, her legs asleep from the lack of sufficient blood supply. The adrenaline slowly wore off, the pain in her hand coming back strong. She whimpered at every throb, every movement she made. She wished Diggle would get here already.

As though she had thought him here, the door from above clanged and she heard two pairs of feet scamper down the stairs. She didn’t look up at their arrival, too intent on Oliver’s fate.

A pair of dark hands covered hers, dwarfing them. Diggle, not Roy. He brushed over her dislocated thumb and she screamed. Alarmed he pulled back.

“My—my thumb.” Was the only explanation she could give, too worried about the man underneath her fingertips.

Roy filled in the blanks. “She must have dislocated her thumb to get out of the handcuffs.”

Diggle nodded in assent, carefully peeling her hands away from the cloth. He peeked under it, cursed and started barking orders.

“Roy, come help me. We need to move him to the table. Felicity, stay there and put pressure on the wound. Ready? Three, two, one lift.”

They heaved and carried The Hood over to an empty rolling table. Felicity walked with them, doing exactly as Diggle told her.

“Roy! Grab some blood bags. I’m going to put in an IV. Felicity! Keep doing what you’re doing.” He kept up a running commentary the whole time.

“You got that in place Roy?” Roy grunted. “Good, okay, now we need to stitch that wound up after we get the bullet out. I need forceps and a suture. No need for a topical, he’s already out and won’t feel anything. Felicity, can you grab the defibrillator?”

She ran over and grabbed it, while Diggle took her place and removed the sweatshirt. With Roy assisting and Felicity watching, ready with the paddles in case The Hood started crashing, Diggle dug out the bullet and went to work sewing up his shoulder.

In no time at all, the blood stopped pouring out and Oliver’s heart rate was steady. As one, they all breathed a sigh of relief. Diggle ran his hand over his head.

“That boy will give me a heart attack one day, and it will be me on the table instead of him. This is the third time this has happened. If it wasn’t for you, Felicity” he addressed her, “he wouldn’t be alive. So, on his behalf, thank you. I know that it was probably difficult for you to put your misgivings aside to help him but—“

“He’s my friend.” She blurted. “Of course I would.”

Diggle looked at her surprised, before it morphed into a calculating stare. He appraised her before saying quietly “I’ve misjudged you, Felicity. Come on, let’s get that hand feeling better.”

He popped the thumb back into its socket, a scream and fiery agony the result. The patient woke a couple hours later, exhausted but alive. Diggle moved him over to the bed so he would be more comfortable. Felicity went with him, curling up next him.

The Hood fell back asleep, but before he did, he asked her a peculiar question. He wanted her to zip up his jacket because he was cold. He could tug down his hood but couldn’t close his leathers. Curious. Felicity did what he asked though, her knuckles brushing against his skin.

His very scared skin.

There were cuts in faded red, some as long as her forearm, crisscrossing all over the expanse of his skin. She also noticed his well-defined abs. She was a woman after all. The strange thing was his jacket was in perfect condition.  No nicks or scrapes or holes or cuts. There weren’t even stains. It was as if it was brand new.

Felicity had seen the blood covering his jacket. He had lain in it after all. But no blood remained. It had just vanished.

He had not gotten those scars wearing that jacket. Then what had happened to him if not vigilante work? What had turned him into a cold blooded killer? Maybe the better question was _who._

Pushing the unresolved questions to the back of her chaotic mind, she buried in next to Oliver. Diggle and Roy she could hear rustling in the background, with low voices discussing something.

The best part was they didn’t handcuff her back to the bed.

* * *

The next morning The Hood was feeling better enough to move around. He picked up his bow and started target practicing, hitting the dead center again and again. Still icing her thumb, she wandered over to the computer system, eyeing the set up.

It hurt her to see such a poor wiring. She set up to disconnecting wires and rebooting machines. She ignored The Hood’s cry of “Hey! What are you doing? I was running a search on that.”

Felicity just shrugged and went back to her meddling.

When she felt like she was finished, that it was the best it could be with all the parts available, it was dark and Diggle had come down the stairs, tugging on a black jacket.

“You good to go out?” he asked The Vigilante.

“I’m fine Dig. Don’t worry about me,” He replied nonchalantly, buckling on his quiver.

“You know that I have to,” Diggle pushed back. “It’s my job. Plus you’re my brother.”

“Yes you are. The only reason you worry…”

“Is that if anything happens to you, my family will have the same fate as Thea.”

Felicity perked up at that. She recognized the name as belonging to Oliver’s sister. Whatever had happened to her, Diggle is concerned it would happen to… his family? Diggle has a family? She didn’t think that he would be the type. Then again, her misconceptions about The Hood have started to be proven wrong. Why not the same with Diggle?

It made her wonder again. What happened to Thea?

The monster was back, angry face in place, glaring at Diggle. “I know, John. You don’t need to remind me what the stakes are.”

Diggle glance at Felicity and she hurriedly glanced away, embarrassed that she had been caught eavesdropping. Diggle lowered his voice but she still caught half of what he said.

“We… running out … time…  last hope.”

The Hood didn’t react in kind. “Not if we cross off all the names on the list.”

Felicity couldn’t keep her mouth shut.

“What list?”

Now Oliver glanced over at her, a soft look in his shadowed eyes. He drew a notebook from his jacket pocket as he walked over to her. His hand fell on the back of the chair she was sitting in, (she has claimed it as hers) turning it so he could look at her fully.

“This list,” he answered her question. The Vigilante left the book on the table in front of her, going back to the case that held his bow. She looked at him for permission to touch it. When he noticed that she was waiting, he tipped his head in the notebook’s direction. Only then did she open it.

Inside was a list of names, written in a dark brown ink, almost if it has been toasted. The paper curled under her touch. Some names had a line crossed through it, ranging from red to blue to black ink. Felicity recognized most of the names; people the vigilante had killed.

Halfway through the pages and she saw something that made her stop. A familiar name, much more intimate than the rest.

_Quentin Lance._

Through it was a blue strike. He had been taken care of. Completed. The task was done.

The Vigilante had killed him.

She gasped, turning to the person she thought was becoming her friend, someone she cared about. Some small part of her thought that he had been starting to care about her. Turns out that she was wrong.

“You killed him?” She stormed across to him, the chair flying backwards against the desktop. How _dare he!_ When she had given up her freedom to keep her father safe. The Hood had betrayed her trust. “ _You killed him!”_

Felicity hit him, as hard as she could. He didn’t even flinched. For some reason that made her angrier. She wanted him to feel her pain, to feel her grief, to feel what she was feeling. She wanted him to have a soul dammit! For some part of him to _care._

“Why would you do this!? I gave myself to you so that he would be safe! You PROMISED!” Tears of anger and betrayal and sadness sprung to her eyes, but she just wiped them away and kept hitting him. “I went with you, I gave up my _life_ for him and you kill him anyway? You’re a sick, son of a bitch, Oliver. You’re a monster! I. Hate.—“

The Hood suddenly grabbed her wrist, stopping her punch. “That’s enough.”

“Let go of me!” She snarled, no longer afraid of him.

“No.” The man she had come to know these past weeks was gone in an instant, replaced with the merciless stranger she had first met. His blue eyes frosted over, as cold as snow. He dragged her to the bed, Felicity stumbling over her own feet.

Once he had deposited her on the bed, he grabbed her chin.

“Felicity. Listen to me.”

“No! You killed him. You’re a _murderer._ “

“Yes, but no,” he snapped.

“What do you mean ‘no’. You are a killer!”

“I’m not denying that. I mean, ‘no’ as in, I did not kill your father.”

That made her hesitate. Felicity stopped attempting to get her face out of his hand, staring at The Hood incredulously.

“Yes you did. His name is crossed out in your book!”

Oliver sighed as a parent would with a stubborn child and looked up at the ceiling, his mouth murmuring something that sounded a lot like “patience”.

“Felicity. I did not kill Captain Lance. The reason his name is crossed out is because…” He hesitated, looking her over. He opened his mouth again but nothing came out.

“Because…?” She prompted.

The Hood wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Because I have you as my prisoner.” He said reluctantly.

He was expecting some kind of blow up, but Felicity only felt confused. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t kill everyone on the list, Felicity. It’s only as a last resort. Most I just threaten or blackmail.”

“Or kidnap their daughters.” she muttered.

He gave her a long suffering look.

“Or kidnap their daughters. “ He echoed begrudgingly.

Something occurred to her. “Why do you do it? Why do you kill all those people?” She asked, just as he turned away.

Oliver turned back and entered her personal space, a gloved hand on her shoulder.

“Because of Thea.”

Such a simple answer, yet so complex. Also, it didn’t make any sense but he didn’t elaborate, just walking to his bow and heading out, Diggle behind him.

He was killing all those people for his sister? Because of what happened to his sister? Now she knew what made a good person a murderer:

Love.


	3. Aenigma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hot embers to fiery sparks. This is how a fire starts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have another update for you!! I am so excited about this chapter, it's one of my favorites. A lot of time passes in this chapter, so remember that. 
> 
> Also, this is not your traditional Disney beauty and the beast story. Keep that in mind as you proceed from here on out. 
> 
> Without further ado, please enjoy!!
> 
> As always, reviews are encouraged and hoped for and they let me know that I'm not writing into the darkness, BUT... not necessary

**CHAPTER THREE**

The next night, Felicity didn’t stand by and let Roy touch her new system. He had already screwed it up within the first few seconds of sitting down and she ushered him out as soon as she could. It was the least she could do, if not to stop some unwitting boy ruin her precious technology.

Roy grumbled at her, threatening to chain her back to the headboard, but she just held out her hand for Roy’s comm device.

“No way, Blondie. Boss won’t like it.”

“I’m not going to let you on these computers either way. The only way I can help him is to have your comm. You having a comm but not a computer means you then have to relay the information to me and then I have to relay it back. I’m just cutting out the middle man.”

“Oh I see. I’m the middle man.”

She hesitates, biting her lip. “Maybe. Oh who am I kidding. YES. Now hand it over.”

Reluctantly he pried the device from his ear and slammed it into her open palm.

She gently wiped off the earwax before stuffing it into her own ear just to hear Oliver barking orders.

“Roy! I need you to pull up the address for Lotman Luxuries. I believe it’s in the Warehouse District. Our informant told us that Peter Novak is picking up a shipment and I need directions.”

She touched the keyboard to do as asked, and she almost felt a spark as if a welcome home gesture.

“Mama’s been away from a computer for too long,” she crooned, easily tracing the best way to get to the warehouse, avoiding the cops and heavy traffic.

“I’ll do you one better,” she spoke into the comms, “I’ve hacked into the security cameras and ‘borrowed’ the FBI’s facial recognition for one Mr. Novak, and he’s definitely in there right now.” She swirled her chair around, feeling smug that it had been so easy.

“Felicity!” Oliver’s deep voice barked in surprise. It then turned tenser. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Making sure that Roy doesn’t break anything else. Yesterday alone he was using this Cobalt encrypted workstation to check his Facebook! Facebook! And something else besides that social media site because I had a Trojan trying to break down the carefully crafted walls I put up just yesterday! Thank goodness I’m as good as I am or we would have had the cops beating down our basement door. “

She heard a garbled huff of resignation before his words accompanied it. “Fine. Just direct me there. “

Guiding him around the police was as easy as pie, and she may have hacked her way into the city’s system to change lights from red to green.

She watched as The Hood infiltrated the warehouse, putting down four armed thugs. Holding Novak at arrow point, The Hood uttered his famous battlecry, one that still haunted her dreams, though she was reluctant to admit it. Though he was her friend, a small part of her didn’t trust the Hood to not turn into a savage beast and kill her. Her dreams occasionally had Oliver in his suit with nothing but a dark shadow underneath, his weapon of choice aimed at her chest.

_You have failed this city._

And every time she died, the last thing she saw was him turning around and walking away.

Becoming the monster she always thought he was.

“You have failed this city!”

Felicity cut the cameras before she could see him kill Novak.

That’s when the cold hard truth came crashing down. She had just been an accessory to murder.

Abruptly pushing away from the desk, she darted over to the bed, ignoring Roy’s muffed protest, and buried her face in a pillow. Turns out it wasn’t _her_ pillow and she got a nice whiff of Oliver’s scent. It smelled musky, of leather and woodpine, the metallic tang of steel and something uniquely him.

It overwhelmed her and she couldn’t stop the tears.

She had just helped him kill someone, but it had felt right. Like she was doing something worthwhile. Like it was her ultimate destiny to be behind a computer setup like that, helping someone.

But not killing them.

She wasn’t that kind of person. She didn’t know what crimes Novak had committed, she didn’t know why he had ended up on the Hood’s list. She didn’t know what anyone did to end up there. Her step-father was a good man, as far as she knew. So why was his name next to someone like Hannibal Bates?

Oliver returning to the lair made her sit up, brushing the tears aside. She would get answers, before she went any farther into this. She would help him if and only if she knew the truth.

Felicity marched over to the workstation, picking up the notebook and holding it aloft, waving it underneath Oliver’s nose.

As she opened up her mouth to say something, he stopped her with his hand. “Before you say anything, it was necessary--”

“Necessary? This isn’t a war Oliver! Casualties aren’t _necessary.”_

“Casualties? What are you talking about?” He glanced over at Dig but Felicity ignored his feigned confusion.

“I always thought you were a monster, a dark nightmare that haunts through the city of Starling. After these few weeks, I have been deluding myself into thinking you weren’t that, that you are actually a _person,_ not this _thing!_ I guess I right. You really are a beast.”

Felicity was not prepared for the fury in his eyes, an inferno that outblazed her own.

“That’s what you think I am?! You think I’m this cold hearted machine, a malevolent murderer?” He stormed towards her, backing her up against a table.

Not one to be intimidated, Felicity straightened up, facing his anger. Internally, a voice was screaming that this was a bad idea and that with one twist of his hands, she could be dead.

“YES!”

“Then why aren’t you DEAD!? Why didn’t I kill you in your house? Or when you got here? Why have I not killed you in your sleep, or left you on the floor?” His voice lowered, became softer, full of hurt and pain. Felicity felt a pang of guilt for jumping back to her conclusion because of ignorance and fear. “I’ve let you sleep in my bed, Felicity, next to me. I have given you almost everything you’ve asked for. All I ask for in return is for you not to hate me. Please.” His hand came up to touch her cheek and involuntarily she flinched away, causing him to drop it and step back, away from her.

Her anger dissipated, leaving her cold from the lack of his presence.

Looking at the concrete, she mumbled, “ I don’t hate you. I just don’t understand why you had to kill him.”

His gloved hand tilted her chin up, making her look at his shadowed face.

“What are you talking about?”

Roy stepped forward, reminding Felicity of his presence. She had forgotten in the wake of Oliver’s overpowering aura. She was tuned to his very essence.

“She thinks that you killed Novak.”

Oliver turned back to her, the set of his mouth conveying understanding.

“So that’s what sparked this furor. No, I needed information from him.“

“You didn’t kill him?”

“No. Peter Novak is still very much alive, a torn shoulder notwithstanding.”

Felicity sighed in relief, remorseful for her earlier outcry. “So I’m not an accessory to murder. Thank Google.”

“Did you think I killed him?”

“Yes. I turned off the security cameras because I didn’t want to see him die.”

“Oh,” was all he said. He moved away from her, taking off his quiver. His bow followed it, being placed in the glass case that held some of his arrows.

She twirled the book in her hand around before returning it to it’s original spot. She walked up to Oliver, placing her hand on his shoulder, which made him turn. She had to apologize. A heavy knot in her stomache wouldn’t go away without her making this right. Felicity was ashamed at her actions. She should know better than to jump to conclusions.

“Oliver, I’m sorry---”

“I have food!” Diggle interrupted, carrying bags from Big Belly Burger. The opportunity lost, Felicity joined the boys in their feast of fatty foods in which they all dug in heartily. Eating with them was comfortable, if a bit awkward. This was her first time not taking her meal on the bed, instead dining with her kidnappers. It turned out that she didn’t mind it.

That’s it. She’d developed Stockholm syndrome and she should really stop.

But she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

That night, lying next to Oliver, she asked him quietly, “Why are there so many people on the list?”

He turned to face her, tipping his hood back a little so she could faintly make out his eyes. His hand came up and hovered over her cheek, like he was going to touch it, but he let it fall away instead.

Felicity bit her lip at the emotions that simple gesture was causing in her stomach. Butterflies. Did she really want him to do it? She wondered what it would feel like, the leather of his glove caressing her cheek. She wanted that touch, she found, wanted it badly. From him.

The thought made her uncomfortable so she focused back on him, on his dark blue eyes.

“The list, Felicity,” he started hesitantly and Felicity found out that she rather liked the way he said her name, even with the voice modulator. It thrilled her to imagine how it would sound from his lips in his natural voice.

“The list is a task I have been given. Don’t ask me by whom because I can’t tell you. But there is something coming and I’ve been tasked to stop it. I have to cross all these names off the list, stop them from supporting the Undertaking---“ he stopped, a sound coming out like he was being strangled. Like someone had cut him off. He coughed then started again. “Those people contribute to the _thing”_ he emphasized it so she knew he meant, what, the Undertaking? She thought that was it, “and in order to save my sister, I have to kill them, or deter them, or ruin their operations. I _have to._ “

Felicity reached up and touched his cheek when she heard the torment in his voice, the grief that he was forced to kill these people for some unknown reason. To save his sister. From whom? Who would hurt her?

The answer was so obvious Felicity couldn’t believe she didn’t realize it—the same person that was making Oliver take down the List.

She caressed his cheek in the way she had wanted him to do to her earlier, her fingertips fluttering over the mask. He jerked away at that, roughly shaking his head. She took away her hand.

“What about my step-father? Why is he on the list?”

His breath washed over her, slightly stale. “I’m sorry, Felicity. He’s a dirty cop. He’s let the other people get away with certain illegal acts to support the… the _thing._ He got paid to do it from an unknown account.”

“Money which he used to pay off Laurel’s student loans. It makes sense now.”

 

Oliver didn’t respond, just searched her gaze. Whatever he saw in her eyes made him reach out and tug her closer. She nestled into his chest, the leather bringing her comfort and she felt sad that she had learned the truth. He step-father was a good man; he had just done wrong things for the right reasons.

Felicity hesitated, but that tangled mess in her gut just wouldn’t go away.

“I’m sorry for how I acted earlier. I didn’t mean…well, I did mean I just… I shouldn’t have… I’m just sorry. I overreacted, that’s it, and I’m sorry that I made assumptions. Thank-you for clarifying and not killing me.”

That elighted a small chuckle from him.

“You’re too remarkable, Felicity Smoak, to be removed from this world.” She thought she felt his mouth on her hair, but it was to brief of an action to determine.

Felicity noticeably ignored that being close to Oliver made her feel safe. She didn’t know what was happening to her, she should be absolutely disgusted that she was anywhere near him.

A small voice reminded her that it took a strong person, one that cared a great deal, to do such a thing for his little sister.

Felicity only half listened to the voice and fell asleep warm for once, despite all the blankets Oliver had brought her.

* * *

It became a usual routine; Felicity wouldn’t be chained up as long as she agreed to wear a tracking device so that Roy, Diggle or Oliver could keep on eye on her and make sure she didn’t leave the basement. They also let her run the comms. Most of the time Oliver just threatened or intimidated the people of the List until they spilled their secrets.

On occasion, he would put an arrow through their heart.

The first time it happened, Felicity was unprepared. She had gotten used to Oliver torturing the individuals before disappearing like a ghost. This particular time he uttered a phrase “Justice must be served” something he had never said before, it had always been “You have failed this city”,before taking a deep breath and letting the arrow fly. The man in question, Ben Hawthorne, had slumped and Felicity had been so shocked, so taken aback she screeched, shutting off the monitors and rolling away to the other side of the room.

Roy had look at her in annoyance but she was too shaken to care. By the time Oliver returned, she had gotten her heart under control and addressed him with a soft hello. He didn’t mention what had happened and Felicity was disinclined to bring it up.

The next time he uttered the phrase, Felicity barely made the connection in time. He said it for her benefit, to let her know that she should shut off the screens because the person would be losing their life.

A month and a half had passed from the time that she had been taken, and she almost didn’t miss home. The basement had become a familiar place, the creaking of the pipes, the mysterious waterfall across the open space. The bed that she and Oliver shared. It was home.

Felicity had stopped flinching from Oliver’s presence and actually welcomed it. Whenever he walked in the door, still hyped up on the adrenaline, Felicity felt that she could take a breathe once again. _He was alright._

When had she started to worry about him? Was it when she had started on the comms? Or was it when he had returned bleeding and half dead? Felicity had no answers to her own questions. She just knew how she felt. That he was becoming her whole world and it terrified her. She had come to care for this monster because she found that underneath all the intimidating tactics and the rough leather exterior, he was a man who was suffering, full of pain.

The man who forced him to do this was the real monster.

It all came to a head when Diggle informed Oliver that the boss had called, that there was an additional assignment to be completed. Oliver had withdrawn into himself, frowning and snippy, scowling as the training dummy took a beating.

Finally, three hours after Diggle had told him, Oliver agreed to do it.

When Felicity had asked, Oliver had told her without any fight. Like he knew that she was going to help either way, if he told her or not.

The task was to break into Kord Industries and steal what was known as the skeleton key. The trick was that they had to break in during the day because at night, it was held under seven layers of security.

Felicity suggested that the best time to get in was at dawn--- the night guards would have been there all night and the replacement guards would be less on alert.

Diggle agreed with her.

Oliver would infiltrated via the roof, accessing the stairs. Meanwhile, Felicity would hack into their mainframe and loop the security cameras as well as give access to the vault where the skeleton key was being held. They had to time it right so that the Hood could be outside the vault right when the three extra security measures were dismantled.

While they waited, Felicity spammed every company email she could find, hoping that some lousy sucker would click on her link and let her create a backdoor to their system. She could attack it directly, but it was long and hard to do, plus increased the risk that someone would discover her hack. There was also the chance that they would follow her home. Spamming email seemed like the less intense way to go.

Thankfully some random employee did click on her link, and she had a backdoor. She will admit that she did a fistpump in the air when that happened.  

In the early hours of the morning, The Hood accessed the roof of Kord Industries and it was go time. The guard change was at 6:30 and the layers deactivated at 6:34.

Between Felicity’s hacking and Oliver’s desecration of technology, everything went smoothly. He got in, past all the sensors and knocking out the new guards, had grabbed the skeleton key and was on his way out when things went terribly wrong.

Removing the skeleton key had unintended consequences that Felicity hadn’t foreseen:The re-activation of the three security measures.

Pressure pads on the floor, lasers that would cut a man in half, and the oxygen slowly being vacuumed out, designed to kill any intruders. In addition, the re-activation had alerted the security guards and they would be there in under a minute if Oliver managed to get out.

She could only delay the elevators for so long before security took the stairs.

“Oliver! Get out of there!” She cried, watching as the uniformed men left the elevator and entered the stairwell.

“I can’t! If you hadn’t noticed there are lasers. And I don’t really want to experience decapitation no matter how fun the French Revolution made it sound.”

Felicity felt frozen. Her fingers wouldn’t work. She didn’t know anything she could do and Oliver was going to die or be caught or both if she didn’t do anything.

Her backdoor wouldn’t let her touch the security measures on the inside. She looked and looked for anyways to breach it but it wasn’t connect to their system. It was offline and out of her reach.

Or so she thought.

She remembered the flash drive Oliver had in his pocket, a virus to take out the biometric code.

“Oliver!” She hissed, relaying information as fast as possible. She pulled up the blueprints for that room. “On the left side, just under that first light fixture is a hidden fingerprint scanner, just in case a guard didn’t do the security measures right and got locked in. Plug my flash drive into the USB port on the underside of it.”

She watched as Oliver did as she said. This gave Felicity access to the vault’s system. As quick as she could, she disabled the life threatening mechanics. The lasers vanished, as did the glowing pressure sensors on the floor that would have cause the air to suck out faster had any of them been activated.

He ran across, but not before removing her usb drive. He was thoughtful in that way and made Felicity _aww_. He raced up the stairwell, the shouts of the guards echoing through the comm. He dove out the door and off the roof, using a jettison arrow to stop his fall.

Felicity started pacing, hoping that Oliver would make it back. Oliver had damaged his earpiece in the stairwell, when he was running from security. Therefor, Felicity didn’t know where he wasn, if he had made it to his motorcycle okay, or if five o’clock news would have the death of the vigilante from falling 52 stories.

The second he came in the door to the foundry she couldn’t stop herself. She sprinted across the room and straight into his arms, relieved that he was okay. She heard him murmuring above her, his hand stroking her hair.

“I’m alright, Felicity. I’m okay. I’m here, I’m fine.”

“I was so worried,” she mumbled into his jacket.

“I know,” was his cryptic response.

He tried to pry her off but she wouldn’t let go of him. The next she knew, Oliver had picked her up and carried her over to their bed. Then she was kissing him, and she wondered on how she was so brave but then he was kissing her back and she let words loose, words she didn’t know that she had been holding on to.

“I love you,” she breathed, looking up into his eyes. At her words he looked at her in such amazement and awe that it made her catch her breath.

“Say it again,” he whispered.

“I love you,” she indulged him. That made him kiss again, harder and more passionate than before. Heat curled in her core and she need to feel him, all of him. She vaguely wondered if they were giving Diggle and Roy a show, and she must have voiced it out loud because Oliver slightly pulled away and chucked, the whole motion rumbling through his chest.

“I sent them home after you insisted to be my personal monkey.”

“No more talking,” she said and kissed him. He turned pliable under her hands, letting her take the reins. She pushed him back the bed, feeling the heat curl and grow, rising to a flame that burned under her skin. Felicity wanted him; in her, around her, through her. The essence of _him_ was assaulting her senses and she couldn’t get enough of him.

She pulled down the zipper of his jacket, her fingertips running over the scars he had there, the tattoo on his chest, an octagon with multiple interlocking octagons repeating over and over, making it almost look like honeycomb. It was dark and jagged and turned her on so much.

There was only one thing left she could say, that could transfer all her wants and desires to him.

“Oliver.”

He made it his personal task to oblige her and they lost themselves in each other.


	4. Ne Plus Ultra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love is unfair, Love is unkind,Love should never be left behind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeow! It's this Sunday already? WOW. Okay so this is the last chapter I have already written and completed. This means I have to stop procrastinating and actually write chapter five and chapter six. 
> 
> I may have left you guys on a surprising cliffhanger, with a lot of questions of How and Why. Don't worry! Answers will be given. And many many more questions arise.
> 
> On a positive note, ARROW RETURNS THIS WEEK!!!!! You know what my week looks like? It looks like a Superhero week! I also watch Supergirl on Mondays, the Flash on Tuesdays, ARROW WEDNESDAYS, and the new show Legends of Tomorrow on Thursday. Does anyone know when Daredevil S2 comes out on netflix? I might add that to my Fridays. Or Agent Carter. We'll see. 
> 
> Remember, this story is told from Felicity's point of view. If it was told from Oliver's, then we would have ALL THE ANSWERS. But Felicity is in the dark about almost everything. This is the beginning of the end. Questions will happen but answer will follow. (As a weird note: Sometimes I forget questions that I brought up in chapter one, which a fault of mine, but if you bring up the questions in comments, it helps me to remember that I need to incorporate the answer to the question posed back in ch1. Ask Questions, and remind me to answer them! Please? That way you're happy and I'm happy and the story is the best that I can make it. Thanks!)
> 
> Reviews are encourage, but as always, not necessary.
> 
> Enjoy!

**CHAPTER FOUR**

She woke up entwined in his arms, her head on his chest. His zipper of his jacket was pressing into her cheek so she tilted her head to rest her chin there instead. She watched him, as his eyes were closed under his mask.

That was the only thing she wasn’t allowed to touch, the dark green mask obscuring his identity. Throughout the night he flinched away from her hand every time she tried to touch it. She got the hint after a while; the mask stays. The jacket was still on, hiding the strong biceps she knew must be there from all the ladder pull-ups he did.

The hood was down however, allowing Felicity to reach up and run her hands through the short soft hair. It wasn’t long enough to be considered a frat boy look, but the sandy blonde hair, was long enough to run her fingers through, and hang onto last night when he ate her out.

She blushed as she remembered everything they did last night, how hard he had made her come. She wanted that again. To feel what it was like having him inside her—

“I can see you thinking, and you have that tell-tale blush that indicates that it’s about last night.”

“Maybe?”

“I was thinking that repeat might be in order,” he growled as he flipped her, hovering over her, his length coming to life against her core. She gasped as he latched onto her throat, something that was still sore from last night.

She gasped from pleasure which quickly turned to pain when he bit her too hard.

Oliver flew off her from the sound, retreating as far away from her as he could, his eyes down cast.

“I’m sorry. I—I didn’t…”

She reached out to him. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m still sore from last night. Come back. Please.”

Cautiously, he made his way back to her side but didn’t climb over her again. Instead, he pulled her into his side, holding onto her tightly.

She lay there, next to him. Yes she was happy; as happy as one could be when being held against her will. She couldn’t help being reminded that she was still his captive, the tracking band around her wrist a constant reminder. How could she truly love him, as both of them deserved, if she didn’t feel  _ free  _ to love him?

Felicity needed time and most of all space to figure it out. To choose him and to understand them.

“Oliver.” She stopped, knowing how he could take it and how much it might hurt him. But she  _ needed  _ this. For them.

“I need to leave.”

He tensed under her hand where she had been rubbing circles over his toned stomach.  “Leave?”

“Get away, have some space. No, nothing like that,” she protested when he saw the hurt look on his face, the frown marring his features. He looked like a kicked puppydog. “I’m not backing out. I want this. I want you. I just feel suffocated here, wrapped up that is everything you. Oliver I need to know that my love for you is real, and not something fabricated from being cooped up. Please. A week. Just let me visit my family, let them know I’m alive and I’m alright.”

“Felicity…”

“Please? You have a little more than a week until the  _ thing  _ and you have three names left. You don’t need my help to cross those off. I promise you, the second I know you’re done I’ll come back. Okay?”

He pulled her closer not answering. After an indeterminable amount of time she heard him faintly.

“Alright.”

She leaned up and kissed the corner of his jaw, then licking a stripe up his cheek. He huffed, a half laugh, and smiled adoringly at her.

“I’ll take you back tonight.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll also have something for you when you come back.” He held onto her hand as she tried to pull away. The gaze he leveled her with made her catch her breath. It held promises with a layer of sorrow; a look she knew would haunt her until she returned. The look in his eyes was regret, with the tiniest sliver of hope. The look in his eyes was the potential for agonizing pain or the greatest bliss.

Summed up, Oliver held truth in his eyes, truth that would hurt her. The truth he had been carrying around for so long.

And the second she came back to him she would know it.

* * *

He dropped her off at seven, right outside her house. She looked up at the window he had broken in from, the signs of his passing no longer there. Felicity turned around to say good bye, to give him a kiss or at least a hug, but he was gone, vanished into the dark. She felt slightly hurt, but swallowed it down. He probably didn’t like goodbyes, having enough of them as it was.

Felicity squared her shoulders and knocked on the house her mother shared with Felicity’s step-father and step-sisters.

It was Sara who answered the door, her mother right behind her.

“Felicity! Oh my darling girl!” Donna pushed Sara out of the way, engulfing Felicity in the biggest hug. Her mother smelled like she always did—like alcohol and cheap perfume. Her mother worked at a nearby casino, working to make ends meet.

Once her mother had let go of her, her shrieking not stopping, Sara embraced her.

“I’ve been so worried Lis! When I got back and they told me the vigilante had kidnapped you, I was so afraid for you. How did you escape?”

_ I didn’t.  He let me go _ . The words were there, but Felicity knew she couldn’t utter them. They wouldn’t see what she saw, the man behind the monster, the good she could see buried deep inside Oliver’s soul. They wouldn’t understand why he would be willing let her go.

So she lied to them. “I picked the handcuffs with a bobby pin and got away when he wasn’t looking.

That set Donna Smoak off again.

Eventually they made their way off the doorstep and into the living room. Laurel was there, bent over a law book. She looked up when they came in, a bright smile lighting her face.

“Oh Felicity! Oh Thank goodness. I thought the vigilante would kill you. He didn’t hurt you did he?”

Felicity shook her head. “No. He didn’t lay a hand on me. My cellphone however…”

Laurel quirked an eyebrow. “I hope you gave him hell for it. Even I know better not to touch your tech.”

“Come on Felicity, we were just sitting down for dinner. We are so grateful you are home and safe. It’s a miracle.”

Felicity smiled, hiding the disappointment because she was missing the dank smell of the foundry and the hamburger from Big Belly Burger. But she brushed it off. Felicity would enjoy this time she had with her family, a certain broody vigilante pushed back to the corners of her mind.

* * *

Five days had passed before she finally heard word of the vigilante’s latest kill. Nelson Ravich. The last person on the Hood’s list. He was desperate to have her back, she knew, and that kill was the sign for her to go back.

But she didn’t return to him that night. Or the next.

Laurel got home the second night just after the news ended, hollering that Tommy Merlyn, her boyfriend, had proposed! She was getting married! In joyous excitement, and leaving Donna downstairs to give Captain Lance the news when he returned home, the girls had crowded in Laurel’s room, needling for specifics. Laurel gushed about how Tommy had taken her down to the docks, to a little garden set up in memorial of the Queen’s tragedy, and had a picnic, with food from Russo’s.

He had then gave her a little box, not a ring box, but one of those inconspisous boxes that hold any small item. Laurel had no idea what was going on. But she opened it up and inside was the proposal ring.  Tommy then got on one knee next to her and proposed. She, of course, had said yes and that was that.

Felicity and Sara oohed and awed over her story, squealing along with their sister.

Laurel had then changed the topic over to Nyssa, Sara’s “friend” in Central City, and Felicity wanted to hear more about this. She had missed her step-sisters. But Sara fielded the question and instead turned the spotlight over to Felicity.

“So, Lis. I’m curious. Since I wasn’t here when everything went down I didn’t get to see him. Tell me about the Vigilante. Is he green? Is he strong? What’s he like? I want to know  _ everything _ .”

Laurel immediately chastised Sara. “You know, you’re the only one in Starling that I know who wants to know more about him, or what he looks like. What does it matter his appearance Sara? He’s a criminal, not some teenage fantasy heartthrob. He’s dangerous.  I bet everything they say online about his leather pants is false.”

“It isn’t.” Felicity defended before she registered the words coming out of her mouth. She gasped, clapping her hand to her mouth, willing the words to stay inside of her.

Too late, since both Laurel’s and Sara’s attention were captured.

“‘It isn’t’? Tell me Felicity, how tight are his pants? Is his ass really as toned as they say?” Her body betrayed her again as Felicity blushed, remembering how firm they had been under her hands in the throes of ecstasy.

Her head nodded of it’s own accord. Sara shrieked, bouncing to her knees. “Tell us more, Lissy. Tell us everything.”

What would it hurt? Telling them might help.

“He has the most beautiful blue eyes, ones that feel like he sees right through me, and yet hold all the wonders of the world. I get lost just looking at them. His hair is a dark shade of blonde, just the right length to run my fingers through. And then there’s his scruff, which is so delicious to rub against…”

Once again she had said too much, flinching when Sara and Laurel had twin gasps, one in excitement and the other in horror.

“You’ve kissed him?” Laurel whispered furiously. Sara looked eagerly at her for answers. Felicity sighed and let the truth spill.

“Yes. Oh yes. It was magical wonderful. The best kiss I have ever had. Laurel, I love him. I know it sounds insane, but isn’t love a type of insanity? Wi - with Tommy! Everytime he looks at you, don’t you get those butterflies in your stomach, the feeling that you’re his whole world and he would do anything for you? That one word from him and you’re soaring above the skies? That’s what this feels like to me.

“How?!” Laurel was outraged. “How can you _love him?_ How can you even think it? Felicity he’s a _murder._ A killer. A Monster! He almost killed Dad! And you what, _love him?_ I can’t believe what I’m hearing. It’s some kind of sickness. That’s it, you’re sick in the head.”

“Laurel, it’s not like that--”

“Really? So he didn’t take you from us,  _ your family, _ by force? Or shoot Dad? Or kill Adam Donner?”

Felicity opened up her mouth to protest, to defend Oliver against Laurel’s accusations, but nothing came out.

“You have betrayed us, Felicity! Falling in love with that—that  _ thing!  _ It’s  _ unthinkable!  _ “

“Laurel, please!”

“Tell me Felicity. Do you really know him? Like really know him? Do you even know what he’s like under that mask?”

Frustration built up in her. She couldn’t explain how she felt. It was like trying to describe salt to someone who had never tasted it before. Laurel was making it out like she had committed a crime, and unless falling in love was such a sin, she wasn’t guilty of it.  “I don’t! Okay! I don’t! I have never seen under his mask! So just stop it! I’m not a witness you’re grilling on a witness stand. I’m your sister! I thought you would be someone that would help me, be happy for me, instead of judging me.” Felicity stood up and headed to the door, tension running down her back. “I guess I was wrong.”

She slammed the door behind her. He room was down the hall and she sought refuge in there, sobbing in her pillow. She missed Oliver; she missed his calm comforting presence next to her, the leather smell that accompanied him everywhere. Sleep had been tough to come by the past several nights without him to snuggle up against.

Longing for his smile, the brightness in his eyes that she brought with a particular quip. The second she returned to him, he would tell her everything, all the truths he was hiding behind closed doors. She would get to behold his face, run her hand over his cheek without the smooth leather inhibiting her.

She could go right now. As soon as the thought came, she jumped to her feet, grabbing a duffel and shoving clothes in it. He would be two blocks away, she could walk to it very easily.

Felicity flung open her door, anticipation of seeing Oliver thrumming in her veins, causing her feet to tremble, and almost ran into Sara. Her sister ran her eyes over Felicity’s appearance, lingering on her shoes and the bag slung over her shoulder.

A look of disappointment and hurt twisted Sara’s mouth into a frown. Sara pushed Felicity back into her room, shutting the door behind her.

“Where are you going?” Sara demanded, blocking the door, arms crossed over her chest.

Felicity said nothing.

“You’re going back to him, aren’t you?”

Felicity gave a terse nod, moving to open the door. Sara pushed her hand out of the way.

“Will I see you again?”

“I don’t know.” She answered truthfully. She didn’t know what would happen, what was waiting for her back in the basement. All she knew was Oliver had promised her answers and she wanted them. She wanted him, despite all of Laurel’s objections. These past few days had confirmed that. There had been moments where she had turned to tell him something, a second there to remind him to be careful, a touch on her arm, phantom clangings in her ears. She was his as much as he was hers.

Sara dug in her pocket and produced her phone, handing it over to Felicity.

“Here. So you can always call home. And I can contact you if I need you.”

Felicity was overcome with gratitude, at the thoughtfulness of her sisterso much that she enveloped her in a hug, squeezing her tight. Sara whispered in her ear. “Let me know how good he is in bed, okay?”

Felicity laughed and just noticed a few tears leaking down her face.

“I love you Sara. I’m going to miss you.”

“Me too, for both. Be safe okay?”

“I will. Thank-you.”

Sara escorted her to the front door, a whispered “Goodbye Lissy” and the door shut behind her. Felicity stood there for a moment, looking at the door and wishing she could have it both--- her family and Oliver. Straightening her spine, she turn her back on the house that had good memories and left her family behind facing her future.

Within a few minutes, she was at the meeting place, with no Oliver. She found a seat on a crate in the alley and waited.

And waited.

After ten minutes of waiting, Felicity started getting nervous. She was alone, at night, in an alleyway and there was no sign of Oliver. Had he forgotten her?

Suddenly, three men walked passed the mouth of the alleyway. Surprised and on alert, she fell of the crate onto the ground. They heard the soft thump and looked down the alley. Spotting her, they swaggered towards her.

“Hey there sweetheart.” Crooned one wearing  a backwards baseball cap. He had a cold, predatory smile. It slightly reminded her of Oliver’s but it had never been directed towards her before. 

“Don’t call me that.” She snapped. Where was Oliver?

They were still coming towards her, Hatman and his companions, Skinny and Frumpy. Calling them ridiculous names gave her a tiny sense of normalcy that barely calmed her down.

“Oh, look, the kitten can bite. I bet you can do other things with that mouth besides snap. Perhaps something more adventurous.” Hatman sneered.

“I think she just likes giving a chase. Makes the victory so much sweeter.” Skinny jeered. Frumpy chuckled in agreement. Felicity shrunk back against the brick wall.

“Get away!”

“Aww. I think we frightened her. Perhaps we should give her some space.” Hatman, contrary to his words, came closer and tucked a hair behind her ear before his hand touched her cheek, running one finger down it.  He then put that finger in his mouth, sucking on it noisily.

“You taste wonderful. I wonder if you’ll like my taste as—“

He was cut off as a figure landed next to them, straightening to full height and two arrows came flying from him, one hitting Skinny’s shoulder and the other Frumpy’s thigh. A fist appeared and hit Hatman’s face, taking him down.

“Take your hands off the girl!” Came the harsh tone of an altered voice, as low and as menacing as she remembered. Skinny and Frumpy staggered to their feet, running out of the alley as fast as possible. Hatman must have been stupider than his companions because he didn’t turn tail. Instead he did something stupid.

“Make me.” He challenged.

Through the shadows, she could barely make out the lower half of Oliver’s face. The ghost of a smile made her insides twist in familiarity.

“With pleasure,” he growled before , landing three consecutive punches quickly into Hatman’s gut. With a grunt he went down again. Oliver drew an arrow and aimed it at the cowering man.

“Don’t!” Felicity stopped him, still pressed against the bricks. He glanced over at her, that ghost smile disappearing and he let go, his arrow embedding itself in Hatman’s thigh.

With two long strides he advanced on her, encircling her with his strong arms and shot a line to the rooftop, pulling her with him. When they were safely on the roof, he leaned back slightly, checking her all over.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry I’m late. When you didn’t come last night I lost hope but I thought I would come just in case…”

He was rambling. It was adorable and sweet. She closed her eyes and buried into his shoulder, holding him tight.

“I’m okay. I was so scared. I thought that you weren’t going to show up…” She trailed off. Oliver was running his hands over her hair.

“Hey. Hey I’m right here. You’re going to be alright. I’m here.” She was shaking, rocking both their bodies. He just held her, whispering comfort into her ear.

Finally, she had calmed down enough to step back. “Oliver?”

“Hmm?” He looked down at her with an unreadable expression.

“Take me home.”

With no further prompting, he got her off the roof and onto his motorcycle, racing through the Glades.

He slowed up and Felicity saw where she had been held for the first time. The Queen Industries old steel factory. It had closed right before the scion and his son had died several years ago.

Oliver led her down and inside the factory to the familiar basement.

Diggle and Roy weren’t there, it was just them. She stopped Oliver when he headed towards the bed.

“I was promised something when I returned.”

He turned around the kissed her forehead. “Tomorrow. I promise.”

But Felicity wanted to know  _ now. _

She didn’t know what he promised. While she thought it might be the truth, perhaps it was something else, and not what she wanted.

What if he never revealed his identity? What if she would always love a masked man?

Other thoughts started occur. What if he was scarred? What if the mask was welded on? What if he was plain? The thought embarrassed her. She loved him, what did it matter what he looked like? It was horribly vain of her and she pushed it down. It didn’t matter what he looked like.

Did it?

She followed him to bed numbly, mechanically.

She still had the phone Sara had given her. Perhaps when he was asleep she could take a peek, see who he really was. Feeling like a child on Christmas morning, too anxious to wait for morning, she couldn't sleep. She laid in Oliver’s arms paralyzed, sleep not coming.

Even if she wanted to wait to tomorrow, the sandman denied her rest and just lying here, with the thoughts ravaging her brain drove her crazy.

She would do it. She would look beneath the mask.

It was just one peek wasn’t it? It wouldn’t hurt anything and he wouldn’t even know.

Carefully, she extracted herself from his embrace, pulling the phone out of her pocket. Her hand pulled down Oliver’s hood, exposing his head.

With tender fingers, she peeled off the mask, willing it not to slap down and wake him. With the cellphone pointed away from him, she turned it on, the dim light illuminating the basement, including his features.

She gasped when she finally saw all of him. Despite her fears, he  _ was  _ handsome, with prominent cheekbones and dark eyebrows. One eyebrow was raised higher than the other naturally, giving him a constant come hither look, even in his sleep. The scuff of his beard just gave his face a finishing touch.

What surprised her most was that she  _ recognized him.  _ It had been almost seven years, but she had worked for Queen Consolidated, before becoming a kidnappee. She had met his mother and sister, the former at work and the latter at a coffeeshop,  and it was hard not to recognize a local billionaire. Especially one who had dated her step-sister and was supposed to be dead.

Oliver Queen.

He and his father had left on a yacht over six years ago on their way to China. Their boat encountered a storm and they were never heard from again.

From what Laurel had told her about him (with loathing vehemence) he had been a careless party boy who never cared about himself or others. All he cared about was girls and getting drunk and spending his parents money.

It was his death that had brought Tommy and Laurel together. They had bonded over their grief and things had gone from there. Tommy had changed with Oliver’s death, becoming serious. Laurel had seen that change and eventually, she had trusted him. Laurel didn’t want to be broken hearted over someone like Oliver again.

But here he was in front of her. Dressed in a dark green suits and ordered to kill people by the mysterious boss for the  _ thing,  _ the thing he wasn’t allowed to talk about, the reason for the list,  __ The Undertaking.  Tommy had changed from his best friends death. What had happened to Oliver that had changed a carefree boy into a dark and burdened man? He had told her it was because of his sist--

Thea Queen. 

How could she have been so  _ stupid.  _ A sister by the name of Thea. His name was Oliver. For a Starling City resident she was being very slow on the uptake. But she had met Thea… now that she thought about it, that had been over two years ago. Thea Queen had disappeared from the Night Life, becoming almost as a ghost--

A loud sound cut through the silence, breaking her out of her thoughts. The smallests of glances had Felicity seeing that Sara was calling her and it was the cellphone making that noise. A half second later she was pinned to the bed, Oliver over her and looking at her intensly, his hand around her throat.

“Oliver.” She garbled, pulling at his hands. She watched as he came back to his surroundings, noticing her and what he was doing. Springing away from her, he sat up, clutching his hands to his chest.

“What…?” he asked bewildered before horror slowly dawned on him. He gaped at her as he reached up and touched the mask on his forehead.

The second he had touched it, he bowed over, hitting the bed over and over again. A harsh cry ripped from him.

“No!” he screamed hoarsely. “No! Why would you do that!?” He turned his pained eyes on her, and regret washed through her. She reached out to him but he flinched away from her touch. “Why! Felicity why! All you had to do was wait until morning. Then we all would have been safe. It would have been all over. We would have been free! Everyone of us. All you had to do was not be curious, not be… Felicity…” 

The way her name came out at the last, as though she had run him through with a sword. He was devastated and she didn’t understand why. Hurt, pain, confusion and betrayal all flickered through his eyes as he stared at her. Neither of them moved, him waiting for something to happen and her waiting for him. They were both waiting for the other shoe to drop.

In a moment it did. The Foundry door crashed open, the sound reverberating around the room. Oliver sprung over to her, clutching her to him.

“No!” He pulled her tighter. That’s when she felt hands on her feet, and in her fear, she kicked at them. Oliver hauled her off the bed and over to the corner. That’s when she saw them- three men, dressed in dark clothing, with sunglasses low over their eyes.

Oliver placed himself between them and her, she being boxed into the corner. “You can’t take her. I won’t lose another. Tell him I finished, he can’t have her.”

Felicity grabbed the back of his suit, the leather slick from the sweat on her palms.

A sharp pop sounded through the air and something pinched her neck. She collapsed against Oliver, the world blurring. The last thing she heard before  embracing the darkness was Oliver screaming her name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: Pose your questions you may have in the GIGANTIC SPACE below and I will make sure to address them in the coming chapters!


	5. Verto de Rebus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three can keep a secret only if two of them are dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this chapter is shorter than normal, I'm so sorry. I planned on having six chapters but then this ended so perfectly and I really didn't feel like continuing so this is what you get. I wrote this in the past two hours so please forgive if there are any mistakes. This is the rough draft version, I'll go back and edit it sometime during the week. I just wanted to update on Sunday so I didn't disappoint y'all. 
> 
> And there is no Olicity in this chapter. But there are answers! Lots of answers and more questions. I might not be able post next sunday because i have SO MUCH HOMEWORK this week. SO MUCH. We'll see. 
> 
> As always, reviews are encouraged, but not required. 
> 
> Happy Reading!

_Previously:_

_“No!” He pulled her tighter. That’s when she felt hands on her feet, and in her fear, she kicked at them. Oliver hauled her off the bed and over to the corner. That’s when she saw them- three men, dressed in dark clothing, with sunglasses low over their eyes._

_Oliver placed himself between them and her, she being boxed into the corner. “You can’t take her. I won’t lose another. Tell him I finished, he can’t have her.”_

_Felicity grabbed the back of his suit, the leather slick from the sweat on her palms._

_A sharp pop sounded through the air and something pinched her neck. She collapsed against Oliver, the world blurring. The last thing she heard before  embracing the darkness was Oliver screaming her name._

 

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Felicity woke up groggily, something soggy pressed to her face. She was uncomfortable, her head lying on something hard and cold. For a second she thought that she may have fallen off the bed again.  Slowly, she opened her eyes and sprung up in nonrecognition.

She was lying on the ground, hard rocks cutting into her palm, coldness from the soft dirt seeping into her clothes. High tree branches hid the sky and the sun from her view. All around her was an endless forest, shrubbery flowing as a green sea, low to the ground.

The next thing she remember was how she got there: faceless men storming into the basement, grabbing her, tugging her, and Oliver’s wretches cries, how he backed her into a corner and protected her, the anguish in his expression. Oliver pounding on the--

Oliver.

The thought pained her some much that his name came unburdened to her lips, ripping from her throat and unleashing it’s haunting shout.

“OLIVER!”

Birds scattered from her cry, a flutter of motion above her head. Quieter, she once again echoed her sentiment.

“Oliver.”

Where was he? Was he alright? What had he meant by “another one?” All the questions piling up in her head and she had no way to release them, no way to answer them.  Felicity shoved them away, anxious to do _something_ to remedy her situation. The fact that she had no idea where she was -- a forest no duh--- but a more chilling notion was she didn’t know _why_ she was here.

The dark men had taken her and abandoned her in a forest. Why? It baffled her, someone who thought logically about everything. There was no reason for her being her. They had taken her away from Oliver, why? Because she saw his face? She had been with him for months and no trace of them. The second Oliver had woken and realized that his mask was removed was when they had pounced.

Was it because she had recognized him as Oliver Queen? The rest of the world thought him dead. Laurel, Tommy. Gosh Tommy. His best friend was still alive and he didn’t know it. Because someone had gone great lengths to keep this a secret.

Her unasked question answered it itself. The mysterious _he,_ the boss Oliver, Digg, and Roy were all apprehensive of.  Those had been his men. The dark men who had taken her.

Felicity had to find Oliver.

Taking an inventory of herself, she found everything fine. Mostly. She had on clothes, the same ones from the previous night, but no shoes. No socks. No jacket. Okay, so she wasn’t fine. She was alive, that had to be better than nothing right?

Gingerly, she climbed to her bare feet, the small pebbles bruising her sole. _This is going to be fun,_ she couldn’t help but think sarcastically. She picked a direction and started to walk. The going was hard, she stumble every few steps, and soon she was limping from an unseen thorn.

Every rustle of a bush, or the flutter of bird brought hope that Oliver had somehow found her, that he was going to give her shoes (a boring fantasy, but she really wanted a pair of shoes right now), and a white paper bag filled with Big Belly Burger (she was hungry, in her defense) and would sweep her off her feet, taking her away from this horrible place. But hours passed and nothing. No green savior.

Night was falling when the trees finally cleared away and she could see the sea. The cold, desolate sea, stretching onward relentlessly, Exhausted and hurting, she collapsed on the sand, and fell into a restless dream.

Oliver was there, protecting her from the men in sunglasses. But then they took off their glasses to reveal themselves as Diggle and Roy. They started laughing, dragging her away from Oliver. Felicity reached back for him, but he just turned away with a smirk, a cold glint in his eye.

Jerking up, she was covered in sweat from her nightmare. _Oliver would never do that_ , she reassured herself. _He loves you._

Or did he?

Frustrated by her train of thought, she stumbled to her sore feet, limping down the sea coast. About an hour into it, in the corner of her eye, she saw a purple coat disappearing into the forest.

“Wait!” Felicity called, her feet forgotten. She raced after the figure, who just barely stayed out of sight, darting behind tree trunks, and around rocks. Felicity crashed through the foliage, limbs whipping her face. “Come back! I need to talk to you! Please t--”

A sharp _CLICK_ stopped her abruptly. Felicity felt cold metal under her foot. Unhelpfully, her mind provided the knowledge that the item she had just stepped on was probably, in all actuality, a landmine.

She was standing on a landmine.

If she moved so much as a muscle, that would be the end. It would be over. She would die. Felicity started to hyperventilate until the rational part of her mind kicked in. Slowly, measurably, she started to breath in and out, trying to calm her racing heart.

“You looked, didn’t you? Took a peek under the mask.” A voice startled her, picking her heart rate up again. In her surprise, Felicity almost moved off the metal.

“Ahh! Don’t do that!”

“Do what? Talk?” The speaker was the figure in the purple coat, the one Felicity had been chasing. She had forgotten all about that with the problem of an active landmine. A woman stood there, straight dark hair cascading down her back, a crossbow tucked into one hand.

“No, scare people.” Felicity retorted, catching her breath.

“Oh, but darling, I am… _scary._ “

Felicity didn’t know how to respond to that.

“So, you’re number three. I’m sorry, you don’t really seem like his type. I mean, there’s me, and that russian girl. He prefers brunettes. How he ended up with you, I don’t know.”

“Wha..?”

“He doesn’t love you. Not really. You, however, do. You really love him. That’s his charm, part of the mystery. He makes you fall in love with him, and then your curiosity gets the best of you and wham! You end up here. With the landmines.   And island with landmines. “

“Excuse me? An island? I’m on an island?”

“Yes yes, weren’t you paying attention? And this isn’t any old sort of island, not like Fiji or Bali. Nope, this one is special because he can control it with his powers. It bends to his every will. Nightmare inducing events at the whim of his imagination--”

“Will you shut up for a second? If you didn’t know, I’m standing on a landmine!” Felicity was fed up with this woman, with the dark piercing eyes.

She smirked, a knowing smile disturbing her gorgeous features. “Oh I know. That’s why I’m here.”

“Fine!” Felicity huffed, confused. But if the woman was here, she could help Felicity. She just had to play the strangers game. “Rewind. Who are you?”

“My name is Helena. And you are..?”

“Felicity.”

“That’s a pretty name. You must be unique enough for him to draw you in.”

“Enough with the riddles, Helena. Can you help me get off this landmine?” Her eyes flashed, murder writing across her cheeks.

“Yes. But there is a price.”

“What is it?”

“The truth.”

Felicity was taken aback by Helena’s intensity, how adamant and somber she had delivered that sentence. The truth was a good thing, wasn’t it?

“The truth?” Felicity repeated. “That’s the price?”

“I will help you only if you listen to everything I say. You have spine, and I’ve decided to help you, like I did the last girl?”

“Last girl? Are there--were there, others?”

That smirk was back. “Yes.”

Helena settled on a rock behind her, a flourishing of her jacket accompanied the action. “Are you prepared for the price?”

Felicity nodded, mute.

“You are on an island. The same one Oliver Queen was stranded on for two years, before his employers ‘rescued’ him. It is called Lian Yu.  You are here because you looked. Didn’t you? You looked right?”

“Ye-yeah. But what does that have to do--?”

“It has everything to do with it! That masked vigilante, the one you fell in love with, used you and now you ended up here. You tell him you love him and he never says the words back.  He needed you, he needed you to fall in love with him, because that’s his curse, and he didn’t tell you the consequences.”

“Helena, what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about, Oliver, Felicity. He’s cursed. He finds girls, lures them in, has them help him on his mission, makes them sleep in his bed and then when we get too curious, has men in sunglasses take them away to this god-forsaken island! You, me and that Russian girl. And what happens? We DIE!”

Helena stormed up to Felicity, her impregnable presence moving as a wave to overwhelm her, until she passed right through Felicity. Icy cold was the mist, the emotion of unhappiness transferring from Helena.

Two seconds later, the trees behind Felicity exploded, sending her sprawling forward, off the landmine. She braced herself for death, but it never came.

Helena appeared then, chest heaving, but a self-satisfied smiled on her face.

“Sorry about that. Emotion helps specters move objects. That’s the only way I could save your life. “

“But what… did you just… was that?”

“The mine? yes. Listen, I don’t have long. I don’t know why, i never got  that far. But these are _trials._ This is only the first. There are more after this. Felicity, you’re the last one. The year is up. I know that. If you truly love Oliver, and want to help him, the best thing you can do is _stay alive._ Don’t die, like I did.”

Helena vanished, dissipating into the air. Felicity’s head whirled with all the knowledge the ghost had imparted unto her. Oliver… used her? But he told her he loved her! He made love to her, she knew it was making love. He said the words… didn’t he? As she remembered, she recalled that he actually hadn’t… said… the words.  He let her go back to her family. And what did Helena mean by a year? It was so confusing.

And trials? She was taking some sort of test? All she knew was it was helping Oliver, and she would do that.

Taking off in a random directions, she limped away from the minefield, headed towards what she hoped was the next challenge. Felicity just wanted to get them over with, she was that kind of person. Get the bad things out of the way as fast as possible. That way she didn’t have time to dwell on them.

But nothing came. She walked all day, her stomach rumbling from being without food for almost two days. Felicity burrowed down when dusk came, thirsty, tired and hungry, her feet throbbing. Sweat covered her body, chilling her and she shivered all through the night, dark shadows haunting her dreams. Oliver was always present but he never spoke, inclined to watch her through his mask, his hood pulled down low. 

The next morning she pulled herself together and trudged on. Felicity found berries and against her better judgement, ate them. They tasted horrible, but two hours later, she wasn’t dead so that meant they weren’t poisonous. Her stomach sated barely, Felicity continued her aimless march.

Reaching a crest, Felicity found a cove, with small rippling waves. On the beach a man in the dark ski mask and sunglasses stood, a rifle slung over his back. Terrified, Felicity froze just watching him. he didn’t move from his spot for a while. Felicity determined that he was perhaps her next trial and she scrambled down the embankment to his waiting form.

He pointed into the water and spoke one word: “Retrieve.” He walked away.

“Retrieve what!” She called after him. Too soon, he vanished into the trees.

Felicity dived into the cold water which immediate froze her veins. It was so cold she couldn’t breath. She dove down, frantically looking for anything that stood out, a box, something shiny, anything a bad guy would want. She didn’t notice her foot get tangled in some rope until she couldn’t go back to the surface. Gasping just let in lots of water. She couldn’t get breath and she would die by drowning. She had failed to heed Helena’s warning, failed to save Oliver, failed to ---

A tap on her shoulder had her eyes flying open in shock. A woman gestured her for Felicity to follow her. Felicity shook her head, attempting to motion to her caught foot, but felt the foot in question move--freely. Delighted, and mostly relieved, she followed the woman, who blurred in and out in the sunlight refracting through the water. Another ghost then. Probably the Russian woman Helena had mentioned.

Felicity couldn’t hold her breath any longer and rose to the surface, taking in a big gulp. Before she went back under, she realized how far from shore she was.  The woman frantically gestured to her, disappearing into a hole in the ocean floor.

Felicity really didn’t want to follow her, certain she would drown. Perhaps she would help her instead, like Helena had. Deciding to trust the woman, she followed her down into the blackness. Fish brushed her feet, the absence of sound disorienting.

Her lungs burning, demanding oxygen, Felicity started to panic, desperately needing air. The woman swam over to her, gently grabbing her by the wrist and drawing her over to an unseen hole in the rock that housed… oxygen!

Breathing deeply, she gave her body what it wanted. The ghost popped up next to her, treading water.

“How can you touch me?” Felicity was curious. Helena had told her that a ghost need emotion to touch physical objects.

“What the Huntress probably told you was true. What she doesn’t know is that water makes it able for me to touch you. She’s tied to the minefield, just like I’m attached to this cove.”

“Why?”

“Because the man, the волшебник, wills it. This island his his playground. People who have died here are now tied to where we die. Helena died in the first task and I--”

“Died here.” Felicity finished. “I’m sorry, so very sorry.”

“And what can you do about it? Nothing! Now come on. We’re almost there.”

A little bit later, Felicity came up in a cave, the Russian woman going away as soon as Felicity’s head burst from the water.

On a small outcropping, in the flicking of a fire, crouched a small girl. She had her knees to her chest, curled up in herself, her dark curly hair hiding her face. At the sound of her splashing, the girl raised her head. Sullen eyes above dark circles and harsh pronounced cheekbones spoke of the girls neglect. When Felicity drew closer, the girl flinched, burrowing into her legs.

“Hey. I’m not going to hurt you. At least I hope I’m not. I could fall on you and then I would physically hurt you. I know, that’s not helping. But I’m here to rescue you,” Felicity remembered the words of the minion, “retrieve you I guess. Here. Let’s start like this. “ Felicity knelt in front of the girl, her hand outstretched in greeting. “My name is Felicity. What’s yours?”

One simple word rocked Felicity’s world.

“Thea.”


	6. Apocalypsis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Twists and turns goes the tongue, evil men with a two-edge sword. He bites and slithers as a serpent and never keeps his word._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that this post is a week late. Aaaand it's kinda short. However, this jam-packed with lots of goodness. You might hate me when you're done. Don't say I didn't warn you.
> 
> Thank you all for all your lovely words! They literally get me through the week. I am going to cross my fingers that I will post next week, but I can't make promises. I will promise that I will finish this. PROMISE.
> 
> The biggest biggest thanks to writewithurheart for beta'ing this for me, she is amazing and a life saver and GO GIVE HER SOME LOVE. Like, go read her stories, I'm addicted to them :)
> 
> Okay, enough of me. TO THE STORY! Enjoyyyyyyyyy.
> 
> And as always, reviews are encouraged and welcomed, and very very much appreciated, but not required.

 

_Previously:_

_On a small outcropping, in the flicking of a fire, crouched a small girl. She had her knees to her chest, curled up in herself, her dark curly hair hiding her face. At the sound of her splashing, the girl raised her head. Sullen eyes above dark circles and harsh pronounced cheekbones spoke of the girls neglect. When Felicity drew closer, the girl flinched, burrowing into her legs._

_“Hey. I’m not going to hurt you. At least I hope I’m not. I could fall on you and then I would physically hurt you. I know, that’s not helping. But I’m here to rescue you,” Felicity remembered the words of the minion, “retrieve you I guess. Here. Let’s start like this. “ Felicity knelt in front of the girl, her hand outstretched in greeting. “My name is Felicity. What’s yours?”_

_One simple word rocked Felicity’s world._

_“Thea.”_

 

**Chapter 6**

Thea? Oliver’s sister? But what was she doing here? Why was she here, on this god-forsaken island? The girl in front of her looked nothing like the strong confident seventeen year old she had met several years ago. Instead, she was emaciated, thin, brittle bones poking through her skin, all bony and sharp edges. Yet, staring into Thea’s eyes, Felicity recognized them, the same crystal blue as her brothers.

This answered Felicity’s question about what had happened to Thea, why Oliver was so determined to complete the list, enough that he would kidnap Felicity. They had taken Thea and used her against Oliver. Why, Felicity was still baffled on. Who was Oliver working for? Why did they take Thea? What is the list all about? And why three girls to sleep in his bed? And not to mention the disturbing pristine jacket, with no tears, stains, or stitch ups.

All these questions were starting to bug Felicity. Immensely.

A shuddering breath, inhaled through chattering teeth, reminded Felicity of her company, and what should be her top priority: She needed to get Thea out of here now.

“Hey, so apparently, I’m here to rescue you, as it seems from the creepy ghost lady and that bad man in sunglass.” Thea visibly flinched and ducked her head against her knees when Felicity remarked on her encounter with the evil person. “hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I won’t talk about or mention the dark, right. Them. Anyways, do you know how you got here?”

Thea’s luminous eyes gazed upon Felicity, panic and frustration welling up. “No. I don’t know, I DON’T KNOW, I DON’T REMEMBER. I just… I woke up here and have been here for so long. The fire never burns out and there is a little food every day but I’m just SO HUNGRY and I want to go home… please… Fel...icity? Felicity, take me home.”

Hesitantly, Felicity crept closer, watching Thea’s reactions, hoping that her close proximity wouldn’t set her off, or spark a panic attack. Felicity wrapped  an arm around Thea’s shoulders, comforting her for a moment, letting Thea bask in some human contact before deciding that the only way out of here was the way she came.

Using the arm connected to the younger girl, Felicity ushered her forward, away from the fire.

“Wha--what are we doing? Why--” Thea dug her feet in, fighting to stay next to the fire. Felicity herself was shivering and would love to stay next to the fire and dry, but since she was already wet, she might as well go back now. She hated thinking about Thea like a mission, clear cut and dry, one task to the next.  Thea needed some TLC, and Felicity should be the one to give it to her. She sympathized with her, since they were in similar situations.

They had both been kidnapped, with very little freedom or movement. Confined, caged pretty birds, a small pawn in a large and confusing game. They both were scared, cold and hungry, not knowing what was going to come next. Perhaps it wouldn’t be bad to stay here; it was warm after all. Felicity didn’t know how to make a fire and sitting on the cold dark beach in wet clothes sounded like a perfect way to die of hypothermia.

Relenting, she released the pressure on Thea, guiding her back to her seat. As Felicity settled down next to her, the girl laid her head in Felicity’s lap, soft whimpering sounds emanating from her muffled face. Content to just let the girl sleep, Felicity combed through Thea’s tangled hair.

Felicity must have dozed off, because she woke to Thea moving, her head leaving Felicity’s lap. Thea was reaching towards a metal pan, with one dry piece of bread and mashed potatoes. “No gravy though.” Felicity thought outloud. That drew a wavering smile to Thea’s face, filling out her cheekbones and making her appear much more her age.

“Which do you want? The bread or the potatoes?”

Felicity couldn’t help but joke, “The bread, since they neglected the good stuff.”

Thea handed over the bread, leaning back beside Felicity, and using her fingers ate the potatoes. The harsh meal highlighted their bleak circumstances, making it hard to forget where they were. Finishing the bread all too quickly, Felicity turned to Thea.

“You up for talking?”

At Thea’s nod, Felicity started letting her curiosities out. “Why are you here?”

Thea pondered, scraping up the last of the starch. Lost, she glanced at Felicity. “I don’t know where to start.”

“How about the last time you were in Starling City?”

Thea shuddered, her hands clapping to her ears. She started shaking her head frantically.

“Hold it! Hey, take it easy we don’t have to start there.” Felicity grabbed Thea’s wrists. “We can start wherever you are comfortable starting. It’s fine if it’s a little disjointed. I bet I can figure it out. I’m really smart.” She gave Thea a smile, but the girl wasn’t looking. She was staring at the ground, boring a hole in it.

When Thea spoke again, her voice came out low and detached, filled with suffering and suppressed terror. “A man with white hair came to visit me in my cell. He would leer and taunt, with unusual politeness. He could make things move with just his mind. The cell was better than here. It was warm and dry, and they gave me food three times a day. I miss that cell.”

Spotting an opportunity, Felicity pressed, “When did they move you?”

“Two weeks ago. The time before that several months. The first time almost a year? I don’t know! I don’t… know.”

“Wait, so you’ve been here before?”

Thea nods in relief that Felicity apparently seems to understand. Felicity just felt more confused than ever.  

“I’m in my cell and suddenly I wake up here, where I stay, for weeks. You’re the first person I’ve met in here. The first person that hasn’t been a… one of them. I thought you were, at first. Why are you here? How did you get here? Are you with them? Are you trying to trick me?” Thea leaped to her feet, finger pointing accusingly.  “That’s it! They’re trying new tricks but I see right through them! They can’t fool me! They--”

“Thea! Stop!” Felicity followed Thea up, grasping her wrist, begging her to see reason. “Thea! I’m not here to hurt you or trick you. Listen to me! Please! I’m prisoner on this island too.”

“We’re on an island?!” Thea exclaimed, alarmed.

“Yes. It’s complicated. You see, your…” Felicity hesitated. Did Thea even know her brother was alive? That he had been here, on this island (according to Helena). Should she reveal this to her?

“My what?” Thea prompted.

Felicity made a quick decision, hoping she wouldn’t regret it.

Assuming Thea didn’t know her brother was alive, Felicity didn’t think it was her place to tell her. She had ended up on this island as a result of looking beneath the mask, she didn’t know what would happen if she told his sister.

“Someone you know did something, I don’t know what, but because of that, the bad men took you.  I’m supposed to come and get you as a task for some crazy scheme.”

Thea furrowed her brows. “That… doesn’t make sense. I’m here as a test for you because of someone I know? Could you get anymore cryptic?”

Felicity nodded grudgingly. “I know, it sounds insane. But the thing is, I’m not the first. The other two girls died. They didn’t get here. Which is why you ended up in your cell again.”

“Oh.” Thea’s voice was small.   

“I know.”

Suddenly, the fire in front of them went out, plunging the cavern into darkness. Thea gasped, sinking closer to Felicity as the cold air started to seep in.

“That’s never happened before.” Felicity turned to her questionly.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean it’s never happened before. The fire has always been lit, every time I’m here. It’s self sustaining. But this…. nope.”

Felicity held her breath as she realized what this meant: they were out of time.

“Unfortunately, I think we are being driven from this place. I need to complete my task and that is rescuing you. Come on.”

Thea just stared at the black water, cringing against the wall.

“Do I …. I’m scared.”

“It’s okay,” Felicity soothed, slowly drawing Thea near the edge. She herself was reluctant to immerse in the water again, but without the heat, and probably no food since that was magicked as well, they would surely die here.

Felicity sat on the edge, legs dangling into the murky blackness, the icy tendrils clawing her skin. Thea reluctantly followed suit.

“Ready?”

Thea drew in a breath, settling herself, squoze her eyes tight, and gave one resounding head bob.

They dive into the water, Felicity leading the way. When Felicity couldn’t hold her breath any longer, she grabbed Thea and swam towards where she thought the ghost had directed her to. Thankfully, Felicity found it and both she and Thea gulped in needed air.

“Halfway there,” she assured Thea. The young girl just nodded, panting hard. After a few moments, together they ducked back under, the lack of light unsettling.

Just ahead, Felicity saw a little light, the color of the moon. She crashed up to the surface coughing, Thea two seconds behind her, just enough to make Felicity panic. It was still a ways to shore, and the gray green of the trees hovered over the horizon.  

“Come on Thea.”

“I don’t think that I can make it. It’s so far and I’m so tired.”

“Thea Queen! You are stronger than that.”

Thea stared at her incredulously, the distrust Felicity though she had smoothed away lurking behind blue eyes.

“I… I never told you my last name.”

Felicity told her the truth. “You didn’t need to. We’ve actually met before, in Starling. A coffee shop. I had the displeasure of being on your bad side because I bumped into and spilled my latte on your computer.”

“Really?” It was tiring just doggy paddling. Felicity needed to get Thea moving before they used up all their energy. Felicity was already tired as is and she didn't feel like drowning. 

“Yes. Now please, we need to swim now.”

Slowly but methodically, stopping every few minutes, they swam to the shore. The salt from the water got in her mouth, drying it out. All Felicity wanted in that moment was a cool drink of water, with no salt. 

They collapsed on the sands,  the moonlight shining down on them. Felicity listened to the rapid beat of her heart, the dragging gasps as air rushed into her dying lungs Barely a few minutes passed before Felicity heard the far off boom again, and she felt the ground shudder. A snap of a branch and the crunch of a footstep made her stagger to her feet, ready for the next threat. She put Thea behind her, in desperate hope that she could protect her.

A cruel chuckle echoed around the bark and off the stones, distorting it. A group of men appeared, all wearing hoods except one. A tall man with stark white hair and cold, light blue eyes strolled towards the pair, a swagger in his step.

“Well done Miss Smoak. I must say I am very impressed in your fortitude.”

“Who are you?”

“Oh, silly me, you don’t know who I am. I haven't introduced myself yet. I’m Damien Darhk.  You have succeeded where the others have failed. However, there is one more test, or more trial for you to complete and I doubt you, nor the man you love, will like it.” At the mention of Oliver, Felicity jerked, desperately searching the crowd. Near the rear of the party, she spotted him, the green hood barely distinguishable from the rest, the brim pulled low. No man had a hand on him and she wondered why he wasn’t fighting, why he had just… given up. His shoulders were curled in defeat, and Felicity lost faith, a gut pulling empty feeling. He was supposed to be a fighter, to do anything in his power to rescue them. The Oliver she loved would never just surrender like this.

Then she caught a glimpse of his hand. His hand with two fingers rolling together. Felicity knew him well. That tick was the only tell he allowed himself. Whenever Oliver had been upset, or tense, or uncomfortable, no matter his stance, his fingers would be rolling and flicking. Whatever was happening, whatever Oliver’s play was, he was fighting. But Darhk was more of a threat than she had thought.

“Take them.” The mans’ voice rang with authority. Two men grabbed her, another one picked up Thea from where she had still been crouching in the sand. Felicity shrieked, slapping the men as they dragged her into the forest behind Darhk. This induced a reaction from Oliver. He lunged forward and then only did she see the manacles clasped around his wrists, almost invisible in the dark.  The chains ratted as he hit the end, fighting against them roughly.

“Let them go!”

“Oh you have no say right now. Not after you betrayed me. What happens next, know that this is entirely upon your shoulders.”

They reached a clearing, and the two men shoved her down. Felicity hit her knees hard and she couldn’t stop herself from crying out in pain. The chains jangled and she didn’t have to look up to know that Oliver had jerked in response. Maybe he did still care about her. Maybe what Helena told her was a lie. Thea was shoved down next to her.

The men formed a circle, Damien Darhk in front of them, Oliver and the three men holding his chains off to Damien’s left, at the edge of the circle.

Felicity’s wrists were bound together, and out of the corner of her eye so was Thea. The men moved off, and there was silence. Then, a sharp two clicks behind her, the distinctive, chilling sound of safeties being removed.

They were going to kill her.

“Your choice, Miss Smoak. This is your final challenge. You get to choose who’s going to live. You? or Oliver’s sister? Who is going to live, and who is going to die. You have sixty seconds.”

Felicity glanced over at Oliver, who had gone very still. She could barely make out his jaw, how hard it was clenched.

She didn’t know what to do. Felicity didn’t want to die and she definitely didn’t want Thea to die. Not only was she Oliver’s sister, the sister he had sacrificed everything for, but Felicity herself had just saved her.

Felicity had to die.

“Fifty seconds.”

Oliver spoke, low and desperate. “Darhk, _please._ Let them go. This is my fault.”

The man turned to the hooded figure, a tight sneer twisting his features. “Yes, and this is how I’m punishing you. You are going to lose someone you love.”

Felicity could hear the shuddering breath Oliver release from where she knelt in the dirt. “Not this way. Anyway but this way. Hit me, _punish me,_ but not them. Please.”

“Oh, but don’t you think it’s ironic?” Darhks voice was almost giddy, the enthusiasium making Felicity ill. How sick was this person? “ Your beloved having to choose the very same choice you failed to make so many years ago. On this very island in fact. I find it very… satisfying.”

Oliver didn’t reply, but the chains snapped again, and a low growling came from his direction. A beat, then, “Let. Them. Go.”

“Forty seconds.” Darhk turned back to Felicity. She glanced into his eyes but the steel there was too much for her and she had to turn away. Motion to her left caught her attention.

“Don’t listen to them. They’ll just distract you.” A figure appeared next to Damien, on his right, but nobody reacted. Damien didn’t turn in surprise, the men didn’t target their guns. It was as if she was invisible.

Invisible to them.

_Oh great, another ghost._

Knowing she couldn’t talk without seeming insane, which would worry Thea, plus she might be shot on the spot, Felicity cocked her head slightly, silently questioning.

“My name is Shado and I was once in your spot.” _But Helena..._ “No, I was never one of The Hood’s bedmates, but I was with him all the same. You see he was here, many years ago. He saved my life multiple times and I his.  We fought against HIVE, we didn’t know it was HIVE at the time, together until… she appeared.”

Shado was giving her so much information, but questions of vague statements plagued Felicity’s mind. This was HIVE? And Oliver was a part of it. He had a honeycomb tattoo on his chest, which must be the symbol for HIVE. Shado was telling her that Oliver fought against them… then why did he join them?

“Thirty seconds.”

Shado’s voice grew in insistency. “Don’t make the same mistake Oliver did. Actually make a choice. He hesitated and Ivo chose for him, shooting me. You two… from what I have seen, you compliment each other. Very similar but different enough to challenge each other, help each other grow… oh but I don’t have time for this. You both have to make a choice between the past and the future, He chose the past and as a result… I died.”

“Twenty seconds. Times running out, Miss Smoak.”

“Felicity. What would Oliver want you to do? Remember that these tests are testing your love for him, not his for you. They are to prove _your_ worth and _your_ stamina. _Your_ mettle. _Not Thea’s._ Trust me.”

Shado took a step forward, coming almost within arms length of Felicity. “I’m here to help you. I gain nothing by lying to you. You heard Darhk, this is a punishment for him, a test for you. Do you really love him? What, or who, does he need more? You, a stranger he picked off the streets?” That stung. “Or his family?”

“Ten. Who’s it to be? You? or Thea?”

“Understand this. Whatever happens next, you need to forgive _yourself_ for what _you_ have done. The only way out is through.”

Shado vanished, but Felicity’s mind was whirring.  In those last sentences Shadow basically told her what choice to make. She had repeated it over and over. This was Felicity’s test. She had to make a decision. She and Oliver were both self-sacrificing. She needed to make the choice that would make him the happiest. This much she knew; he had given up his freedom, his soul, his moral compass, and humanity for his sister.

Oliver needed Thea.

“One.”

“Me.”

“NO!” A single shout from Oliver turned her head to him. In that sound, he had revealed that he did care for her, though not as much as his sister. She met his eyes under the hood one last time before she closed them, wanting the last thing she had of him. A shot rang out and Felicity flinched, expecting it to be her last thought, last action last everything. She expected to… well wake up in the next life. Instead she met the eyes of Damien Darhk, and watch, out of the corner of her eye, Thea’s form slump to the ground.

A howl came from Oliver and he broke free of his captors, running and sliding next to Thea’s body. “Thea! THEA! Thea, _please. Wake up._ C'mon, Speedy. Don’t go. Thea… don’t go.” He buried his head in her chest, cradling her body. Sobs could be heard from him as he wept, and Felicity felt tears stain her cheek as she shared in Oliver’s grief.

This was her fault. Felicity was supposed to die. She chose herself. She shouldn’t have listened to Shado, she should have chosen Thea. Then Thea might still be alive.

Oliver would never forgive her.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *peeks out* Is it safe? *ducks the flying chair* nope. No it's not. *hides behind next chapter*


	7. Denouement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final performance, the final stage, the villain lost in his blinding rage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dearest readers,
> 
> Thank-you so much for sticking with me. I greatly apologize for this two month long wait. I want to thank-you for all your comments, kudos, and encouragement with this rollercoaster ride. 
> 
> I'm actually kinda proud right now, and excited because this is the first full length fic I have finished in the past 7 years. (The only other fic was the first one I wrote and it was baaaad. Like really bad. And it wasn't Arrow. )
> 
> But I have grown a lot with this fic, found my strengths and improved my weaknesses. It shows that I can actually finish something, something long and drawn out. 
> 
> So thank-you. Thank-you so much for letting me share this with you, a tiny piece of my mind and my heart. Thank-you for not giving up on me. I love you all and hope you enjoy this final installment of _The Darkness Within_. It's extra long. 
> 
> And as always, reviews are encouraged, but not required.
> 
> -Genie
> 
> Edit: I feel like the biggest jerk because i totally forgot to thank writewithurheart (Nicole) for betaing this monstrosity. I wouldn't have been able to writethis without her example and encouragement. Please readers, after you finish here, go over and read Once More (From the Top) which is amazing and we just got to the mind blowing part.

_ Previously,  _

_“Me.”_

_“NO!” A single shout from Oliver turned her head to him. In that sound, he had revealed that he did care for her, though not as much as his sister. She met his eyes under the hood one last time before she closed them, wanting the last thing she had of him. A shot rang out and Felicity flinched, expecting it to be her last thought, last action last everything. She expected to… well wake up in the next life. Instead she met the eyes of Damien Darhk, and watch, out of the corner of her eye, Thea’s form slump to the ground._

_A howl came from Oliver and he broke free of his captors, running and sliding next to Thea’s body. “Thea! THEA! Thea, please. Wake up. C'mon, Speedy. Don’t go. Thea… don’t go.” He buried his head in her chest, cradling her body. Sobs could be heard from him as he wept, and Felicity felt tears stain her cheek as she shared in Oliver’s grief._

_This was her fault. Felicity was supposed to die. She chose herself. She shouldn’t have listened to Shado, she should have chosen Thea. Then Thea might still be alive._

_Oliver would never forgive her._

 

 

 

Darhk ordered his men to grab her, and Felicity was forced to her feet. Just looking at Thea’s body made her want to hurl, and her stomach sloshed uncomfortably.  She couldn’t quell the horror inside at what she had done, the choice she had inadvertently made. 

“It was supposed to me.” She whispered, watching Oliver embrace Thea  to him. He was rocking back and forth, tears slipping down over his mask to fall into Thea’s hair. Her blood soaked tresses. 

When they tried to remove Oliver from Thea, he fought like a lion, using all of his strength to hang onto her. 

“Don’t touch her! No! NO!” Darhk wave his hand and manacles latched onto Oliver’s wrists, effectively stopping his struggling. 

Faintly, Felicity heard the echoing boom she had heard before, the tell tale sign of the island bending to Darhk’s magic. The island shifted underneath her feet and she could just barely see through the trees a beach that hadn’t been there before. A shove from behind her made her walk forward. As she reached the edge of the forest, she saw the gigantic freighter, not far off of shore. A shout behind her made her turn. Three men were forcing Oliver away, dragging him in Felicity’s direction. Thea’s body just laid there and no one moved to pick it up. 

They were planning on leaving her body here to rot.

Felicity felt one tear, and then another, slowly roll down her cheek. She had only known the girl for a short time, sharing a bond with her. Because Oliver loved his sister, and Felicity loved Oliver, by extension she loved anything that Oliver loved. His family was her family. She only felt a small portion of his grief, of the sorrow that came with death, but it hit her hard. 

Grief and guilt were two sides of the same coin and they came hand in hand to Felicity.

Turning away from the haunting sight of a grieving and desperate man, she noticed that there were two boats bobbing on the shore. Darhk climbed in one, Oliver forced in behind him by his three captors. Felicity was driven into the second boat, with six others of Darhk’s minions. 

Felicity couldn’t believe that Darhk had actually done that. Killed Thea. Okay she could believe it because he was an evil SOB with a twisted mind. But Felicity had chosen herself to die. Hadn’t she?

Now that she thought about it, she realized that she hadn’t been very clear on her choice. Sure, she told him ‘me’, but Dark never told her which it meant whether she was saving herself or killing herself. Did she telling him herself meant that she wanted to live? It was all confusing and the guilt was eating at her, that she was still alive. Shado had told her to choose herself, that she should die, that Oliver didn’t need her like he needed Thea. 

Shado had also said that the only way out was through. 

Felicity’s mind raced with the implications, the possibilities of Shado’s words. Did that mean that things would be okay? How? Thea  _ was dead.  _ Unless there was some magical hot pool that could bring Thea back to life (she severely doubted it), Thea was gone, and it was her fault. Felicity had made the decision and she needed to suffer the consequences.

Once on the freighter, Felicity lost track of Oliver. They were separated, and she was thrown in a cell, with a hammock for a bed and a hole in the floor for the toilet. It was up against a wall, but the other three walls were made of bars; one to the door, the others to the neighboring cells. Felicity collapsed on the floor, the shame making her curl up on the floor, head between her arms. 

She was cold, wet and miserable. Her feet ached from all the walking she had done in the past two days, and she was ravenous. Though how she had an appetite after watching them kill Thea, she didn’t know. 

Felicity didn’t want to be here; on the island, on this boat, in this situation! If she hadn’t offered her life to the vigilante, she would be home, safe and sound, still working at Queen Consolidated. She could be comfortable, guilt-free. Same old Felicity Smoak.

But if she had done all that she would never had met Oliver. Never had trusted him, seen behind the vicious killer to see the man. She never would have fallen in love with him, and seen a person full of so much darkness become lighter, less burdened. 

She had changed because of him.

A clang next to her interrupted her thoughts. Hesitantly, she looked over and saw a speck of green in the next cell. 

Oliver.

He was sprawled on the metal floor, chains still encircling his wrists. 

He looked up at the sound of her scooting over, his eyes meeting hers. A myriad of emotions scamper across his face, from surprise and horror to relief and another emotion she denied, refused to believe he had for her. There was no way he could look at her and have that emotion. 

“Felicity.”

He struggled to a sitting position, one that was achieved with great effort, and then scooted-hopped over to the bars. It looked kinda funny, especially with a graceful hunter of the night doing it. A laugh was inappropriate given the situation so she choked it down, sobering with a simple thought of Thea. Shame will do that to you. 

“Hey.” He had finally stopped scooting, and was right next to her, just through the metal boundaries. “Stop. It’s not your fault.” How well he knew her from just two months of cohabitation. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t… If I hadn’t… the Gambit… HIVE… this is my fault Felicity. It’s definitely not yours.”

“But… Oliver… no.” This wasn’t his fault. It was a tie between her and Darhk, but it was in no way Oliver’s fault.

“You were put in an impossible situation and made to choose. I  _ know.  _ I’ve been there Felicity, it’s not your fault.”

“It’s not your fault either! You had no idea that Darhk was going to do that. If it’s not mine, then it has to be his. He’s the one that created the situation, the one that compelled you to do those awful things, just to protect Thea. It’s  _ his fault.  _ If you won’t let me take the blame.”

A wobbly smile appeared briefly, before disappearing under the constant frown. She reached through the bars and smoothed his forehead, dragging her finger down to cup his prickly cheek with her hand, gently massaging the underside of his jaw. A labored breath huffed past his lips, him leaning into her hand. 

“Oliver, I—“ She didn’t know what she could say, what she could do to help absolve his grief. A loss of a family member… Felicity still remembered the pain she felt when after a week, two weeks, a month, a year went by and her biological father never came back. The hope she held kindled died a little every time and the pain grew worse with each passing day. Oliver was experiencing that all at once, the onslaught of emotions of losing hope. 

“I’m so sorry.” She finished lamely, the hollow words resounding around them. His eyes clenched, and she could see the tears, despite his valiant attempts at holding them back, escape down his cheeks and she brushed them away methodically. 

She held him that way, him fighting his emotions and her offering anything he will take from her.  She raised her other hand to mirror the first, his head cradled between her hands. Eventually, he leaned his forehead until it was pressed against the bars, touching hers. Slowly they breathed together, small puffs of air that held all the misery contained in a single instant.

Felicity didn’t know how long they sat there, encased in each other. It could be merely minutes or hours. Her legs lost feeling and she knew that moving would be painful. She was chilled to the bone but all that mattered was Oliver. 

“So you’re Oliver Queen.”

Her simple statement broke their silent vigil. 

“I am.” A faint quirk to his lips. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be… you know. Dead? Not that I would want you dead, good google no, but you’ve been gone for six years and my sister moved on from you because of it and I am still talking!” She shoved her fist to his lips, her teeth making imprints on her knuckles. 

That faint smile  solidified more, just for a moment, enough to see the light come back to his pupils before it all fell apart. 

When he spoke, it was cautious, filled with uncertainty and in halting sentences. 

“Thea was… never supposed to be… involved. It was because of my… choices, my mistakes… that she’s even here in the first place. I… did something careless, i hurt someone, and, well, Darhk was upset. I was in the process of  leaving HIVE, of no longer being a mindless agent. I wanted out and John and Roy wanted to come with me.

“That one mistake cost us everything. Darhk found out our betrayal, as well my personal mistake. He decided  to punish me, for trying to leave and the other mistake.”

“What was it? This mistake?” Her fingers traced over his green leather, pushing the hood back so she could see his eyes.

Oliver just shook his head. “ HIVE’s great enemy, the League of Assassins, had a plan to destroy Starling City—the Undertaking—because it was Damien's home city. He has family there, i believe. It doesn’t matter. I was tasked to stop the Undertaking. He kidnapped Thea and threatened her in order to force me to comply.” 

Felicity came to the conclusion faster than she had expected. 

“The Hood. This suit. That’s your punishment.”

He hesitated, as though about to correct her but decided against it. “Yeah. Yes. He trapped me in this suit and forced me to stop the Undertaking or he would kill Thea. I saw her, in her cell. I was given a brief minute with her, but they ripped me away before I could explain…”

“Wait.” Felicity interrupted having just realized something. “So Thea knew you were alive?” 

Oliver paused, a crinkle in his eyebrow. “...Yes? How is this relevant?”

“I don’t know. There’s something about that I can’t put my finger on. Something Thea told me…”

“What?”

Felicity quickly reviewed hers and Thea’s conversation. She had been in the cell for…

The thought she was chasing, the nagging idea that something wasn’t right disappeared. “I can’t remember, it doesn’t matter, I don’t think.” But the feeling that she had missed something would not go away. 

“Felicity. There’s something you need to know.”

“What?”

He opened his mouth, eagerness written in his eyes but a strangling noise came from his throat, swallowing his reply.

“Dammit.” He whispered, his head falling against the bars. “He won’t let me say. Even now I’m still under his influence. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s okay.” They sat in silence. Distantly, Felicity could feel the ship start to move, the engines whirring to life. They were leaving that island, with all the memories and ghosts behind. 

Speaking of ghosts.

“Oliver?” He opened his eyes at her inquiring tone. “Who’s Shado?”

He pulled back in consternation. “How do you know that name?” 

Felicity looked down, tracing the concrete with a finger. “She was there on the island. When I had to make a choice. She told me--” She didn’t finish that sentence. 

“Shado was a friend. But because of me she ended up dead. I didn’t know how everything would turn out. I didn’t know that Samantha would-- it doesn’t matter. It’s in the past.”

He turned his head away, staring at the wall. 

Felicity had one more question for him. 

“I wasn’t the only one was I?”

His brow furrowed, confusion evident. 

“There were other girls besides me weren’t there.”

“Yes.” Oliver admitted quietly. “You’re number three.”

_ Number three.  _

She was number three in the vigilante’s belt, but what number was she in Oliver Queen’s? Three hundred and twenty-two? She wasn’t anyone special, just a girl too nerdy for anyone. 

“Why did you need me anyway? You knew I was going to look! So why did you take me? Why did you agree? Why did I fall in love with you when all I was was another conquest?” 

A pained look crossed his face and he squeezed his eyes shut, his lips pinching together. 

“Felicity. Stop. No. You’ve been the only one. The others may have been in my bed, but never have I made love to anyone. No one except you. I--” His teeth snapped together. “You, Felicity Smoak, are special and remarkable. The best thing in my life is the way that you make me feel. Do you understand?”

She didn’t feel like she did. But Oliver was looking at her so hopeful like, begging her with his eyes to understand what he couldn’t say. To know the unknown thought conveying across the space between them. 

“Yes.”

He slumped in relief, his shoulder leaning against the bar with his head. Her fingers rubbed circles into his cheek, dipping behind his ear, the textured hair tickling her fingertips. 

Felicity had nothing more to say. She was exhausted and bone-weary, sadness rolling from her. All she wanted was for this nightmare to end. She wanted to pretend that this all was a dream, that she would wake up in the basement next to Oliver, in their bed. 

The tilting of the ship, combined with the tiring past days allocated together, and with Oliver’s presence soothing her, she drifted to the darkness. 

* * *

A clanging woke her. Sleeping pressed to the prison bars wasn’t comfortable. Felicity also bet she had red lines on her forehead, a wonderful beauty trait she was sure. Combined with her ragged and tangled pony tail she must look like a sight.   But the way Oliver had looked at her earlier, she had forgotten al about her appearance. 

Oliver was already awake, alert and wary. She had assumed he had slept, but she wouldn’t know without asking. Neither of them had moved from their spot.  

Multiple footsteps sounded towards them, a triumphant march. 

Damien’s men. 

Felicity quickly stood up, the reached through to help Oliver do the same, since his hands were still bound behind him. His strong, quiet confidence abruptly vanished and he turned to her, pale with undisguised fear. 

“Felicity. Quickly. There is a ritual, something that Darhk is going to do to me. Afterwards, I won’t be me anymore. I won’t remember you anymore. I will just be his. Before that I happens I need you to know that I--.” Nothing. He tried again. “I--” Still nothing. 

Whatever Oliver was trying to say he lost his opportunity. Darhk appeared and silently opened Oliver’s cell. Four men escorted him out, but his eyes never left Felicity’s. He was mouthing something, but she couldn’t make out what it was. 

He fought the men holding him, enough to stop his forward progression, remaining next to Darhk, turning his virulent eyes on him. 

“Felicity passed your tests. You promised that I would be free if she could pass every test given to her. And she did. Now  _ let us go.” _

_ “ _ Get him out of here.”

_ “ _ No! Hey! We had a deal! Darhk! We HAD A DEAL!”

“And I’m keeping it! I promised that  _ you _ would be free-- from her, from  _ love _ . That emotion that holds you captive you will be free from that. Oh you thought I meant physically free. Well I apologize for you misunderstanding. Neither you, nor Miss Smoak will be leaving anytime soon. Take him away.”

Oliver fought wildly, taking the strength of four men to slowly shuffle him down the corridor. “Felicity! FELICITY!” 

She grabbed the bars, peering through them to watch him go, her heart banging painfully. She wanted to go to him, to be with him. Tell him everything was going to be alright. Even if they were only lies she told.  __

Damien Darhk then turned to her. She took a couple steps back, leaning away from him. “How very sweet. You should be thankful I gave you two that last tête-à-tête. You won’t be getting another one.”

Felicity regretted sleeping. If she had been awake she might have planned how to escape. Now she could only try to fight back, but the odds wouldn’t be in her favor. It would be fruitless to try. A minion approached and tried to bind her hands but she punched him in the face. 

She immediately jumped back, bringing her stinging hand to her face. She had just hit another human being! To be fair, that man was going to lock her up and she was done being someone’s prisoner.

Another minion came forward, ignoring his wincing companion. He mercilessly tied her hands together and shoved her out of the cell. Deciding that it was better to cooperate than to fight (her hand hurt from that punch! How  did Oliver make it look so easy?) she followed Darhk off the freighter. 

A gray building layout in front of her, two stories high. It stretched in both directions, following the coast. The pier she stood on lead to two glass doors set in the wall. 

Felicity was looking at Evil Incorporated headquarters. 

Darhk saw her in but veered off with the rest of his entourage, just two men accompanying her. They placed her in a room, a white room, with nothing but a bed. The walls were lined with fabric, cushioned. There wasn’t even a bed. 

The door, the very white door had a window set into it. It was also cushioned. There was no outside light, just a naked bulb above her head. 

The door slammed shut behind her. 

* * *

The solitude drove her mad. The cell wasn’t very big, barely nine feet squared. She paced circles around and around. Movement helped with the illusion of the passage of time. What seemed like hours were only minutes but those minutes would be longer every time she moved to a different position.  She would sit for a while, before the inactivity drove her to her feet, drove her to  _ move.  _

She was in one of these brief sessions of sitting still, her head in her hands when it happened.

“So you’re his beloved.” A cold, cruel voice called, making Felicity look up from where she sat on the floor. A girl stood in front of the door, the white of the door and of the cell giving her a translucent quality. A frown was her most prominent trait, the cold angry eyes enhancing her displeasure. The sarcastic tone completed the picture, all together equally a girl that hated her guts. 

Felicity sighed, her head banging into the wall she sat against. “Oh let me guess. He slept with you too?”

With the transparent frame, the palpable anger, and the fact that Felicity never heard the door open, she had concluded that her irritated visit was just another ghost.

Lovely. 

“Why are there so many of you?” Felicity muttered, closing her eyes and wishing the ghost would go away, to leave her in peace with her tears. Darhk had won, despite everything. 

The girl continued on like she hadn’t heard Felicity. “You really don’t seem like his type.”

“Why does everyone keep telling me that!”  _ Just go away evil spectre.  _

“Maybe because it’s true. He’s never liked blondes before. The mighty Oliver Queen. Everytime I saw him around campus, he was with a brunette. Lip Smacking some dark-haired beauty until he met me.” 

Felicity didn’t want to hear this. She loved Oliver and having his past thrown in her face wasn’t very pleasant. “Why are you even here?”

“Because I want to know why he would choose you over me!”

Felicity was confused. Where was this coming from? She didn’t even know the ghost. “I didn’t know you were in the running.”

The girl sighed, grunting in frustration, her hands yanking through her very brown hair. “I guess he didn’t tell you about me. Typical. I’m the reason he’s being punished and not one word.”

_ Ah. So this is the mysterious Samantha.  _

Felicity must have spoken out loud, or this ghost could hear her thoughts, like Shado, because a twisted smile appeared on her face. 

“So he  _ has  _ mentioned me. Tell me, what did he say about me?”

Felicity decided to humor her. It was probably the only way she could get Samantha to leave her alone. 

“That you killed yourself because he didn’t love you.”

That was probably the wrong thing to say. Fury lit in Samantha's eyes and she flew towards Felicity, a screech coming from those empty lips.

“LIES! LIES! HE LOVED ME! HE LOVED ME AND THEN HE BETRAYED ME!”

She passed through Felicity, not doing any damage, the wailing drowning Felicity’s senses. Samantha wafted through the room, attempting to grab anything, but there was nothing in this stark white cell for her to grasp. 

Eventually she calmed down enough to stop screeching, huffing and gnashing her teeth. 

“That’s not true. And because I feel sorry for the lies he has told you, I’m going to set the record straight.”  The ghost crossed her legs and drifted to the ground, a self-important turn of her nose as she glared at Felicity. 

“I fell in love with Oliver at Brown. He paid attention to me and I felt important. Someone who mattered. Perhaps by dating the famous Oliver Queen, my father would no longer think I was useless.”

“Who is your father?” Felicity couldn’t help but ask.

“Don’t interrupt!” Samantha, let’s just call her Sam, Samantha’s too long for a Ghost’s name, Sam snapped. 

“But it never happened. He said he couldn’t date me because he already had a girlfriend. I was his mistress and I was totally fine with that. Eventually I thought he would come around and realize that he was really in love with me. That I was the one for him. The day he invited me on his boat I was ecstatic. I thought that maybe perhaps that he was going to tell me he loved me, I held out hope...until that damn boat went down.

“I was dragged into the water, the cold breaching my bones. When I surfaced there was no one around. I drifted for days until a bunker picked me up. My father had found me. Well, one of his lieutenants did. A man named Ivo, he recognized me. He radioed my father, but he didn’t want me. Left me on that ship for almost a year, helping Ivo conduct his research, his experiments. It was horrible.”

Samantha shuddered, in disgust of what she was imagining. Felicity was fixated on the girl, curious as to why she loathed Felicity so. Beside the obvious fact that Sam was dead while Felicity was well… alive. 

“A year later, I saw Oliver again. I was overjoyed that he was still alive. I did everything I could to help him escape from Ivo, before Ivo could torture him and ruin him. In turn, Oliver got me away from Ivo.” A dreamy expression crossed her face and she drew silent for several seconds, her head cocking to the side. He face darkened after a moment, as she continued her story. 

“Eventually, Ivo tracked us down and took me and a girl named Shado hostage. He threatened to kill one of us and made Oliver choose. I knew that Ivo would never kill me, since my father was his superior. But Oliver didn’t know that. He chose to save me and let Shado die! I knew that that meant he loved me. I had Ivo tell my father that I was ready to go home, if he let me. “

Felicity’s mind was whirling with all these facts and the puzzle pieces she had been missing for days were finally falling into place. Samantha was Darhk’s daughter, and she was the person Oliver had chose over Shado, the elusive  _ her  _ Shado had referred to. A person from his past. Shado had also told her about HIVE, that they-- Shado and Oliver, and maybe others,-- had been fighting against. Samantha’s fathers organization.

“My father rescued us from that island, from the deranged man named Wilson. Oliver then joined my father, becoming one of his agents. I knew that I would marry him and then we would be together forever. “

Samantha’s face then took on a dark gleam, maniacal and wild. It was clear to Felicity that she was obsessively insane. Oliver had used and abused her and he regretted it, based on his small confession in the cell. 

“I anticipated an announcement any day, a love confession to a proposal from my dear beloved. Until one day i walked into my father’s office and found him with another woman! I was heartbroken! My love had betrayed me! And that’s when I realized that he was incapable of love. That he would always be a cheater. He had cheated on Laurel, he had betrayed me. He would never change and never be faithful. So that night, I went into my room and I hung myself.”

Sam’s admission, clear cut and to the point, almost guileless creeped Felicity out. This girl had committed suicide because Oliver hadn’t loved her. 

“When my father found me, he was furious. He found the note I held clutching in my hand, my note explaining how I couldn’t go forward without Oliver. In his grief and his rage at my death, he punished that bastard to a cruel, cruel fate.”

“What was that fate?” Felicity asked, desperate. Oliver had not told her everything about his curse, always seeming to dance around the real consequences of his actions. The missing something he always hesitated in saying. 

Sam smirked, leaning forward as to reveal a secret. How fitting. “My father cursed him to fall in love with a girl only to have her betray him. He could never say those words, the words that he had denied me. They could never cross his lips, no matter how much he wanted them to. He was cursed to wear that Hood, to never be able to take it off, and be a murder, a monster. He would fall in love but that girl would never,  _ ever  _ love him because of what he was. They could never see his face. All they saw was the darkness within him.”

“I got my revenge.” She sneered, standing up. She had a shit eating grin on her face, a self-satisfied smile. “He betrayed me, and it was about time he got his just desserts. So thank-you Felicity,” her tone became mocking, “thank-you so much for breaking Oliver’s heart.” Sam, then straightened, and with a twitch of her shoulders, disappeared. 

Thank goodness.

Her mind then immediately jumped to the revelation Felicity had had when Sam had been talking

He loved her. 

Oliver  _ loved  _ her. 

And he couldn’t say the words because he had been cursed not to. So all this worrying, this self doubt had been for nothing because he loved her. He had tried, oh had he tried to tell her. In his actions, in the way that he made love to her. He had told her that no one else had made him feel this way. Not Helena. Not the Russian. Just her. 

But now he would be lost to her forever. Because Darhk had won, Samantha had gotten her revenge, and Oliver would be his. He would no longer remember her. 

He would no longer love her. 

Frustration came up and strangled her. Just when she had realized that she had been Oliver’s, all along was when she would lose him. The irony. That cruel fate of events. The cold truth in the saying that you only know when you have the thing when you lose it. 

Just when she opened her mouth to scream, to let the world know her pain, a click captured her attention. The white door to her white room swung open.

“Felicity!” A harshed whispered voice came through the open door. She recognized that voice. 

“Roy! How are you here? What are you…” The question died on her lips as she caught a glimpse of the figure half hidden behind Roy. 

Thea. 

What  _ is it  _ with the ghosts! Why can’t they just LEAVE HER ALONE! 

“Go  _ away!”  _ She growled, her focus on the girl lurking behind Roy. Thea stepped back from her forceful declaration, the hostility palpable, rolling and hitting the girl heavily. Roy looked back and forth between them, his confusion very apparent. 

“Felicity? Come on, I’ve got no time to explain. What are you--”

“I can’t deal with another ghost okay! So,  _ you. Go aw--” _

“She isn’t a ghost! Felicity! Thea didn’t die! She’s alive.”

Alive? 

Boy, what was with the shocking revelations today? FIrst Oliver, then Sam, and now Thea. “What is going on?”

It was Thea that answered. “We don’t have time. We’ll have to explain on the way. We need to stop that ceremony now.”

Being reminded of Oliver, and being presented with a chance of hope, the opportunity to save him, sprung Felicity into action. She up and pushing past Roy in an instant. 

“How are--- how do you--- you died!” 

Thea sighed as they walked quickly behind Roy, following his lead. 

“Darhk captured a girl and made her look like me. That was the girl he killed on the island. It wasn’t me, Felicity Smoak.”

“How do you know my name? And how do you know about the ceremony?”

“I remember you from that coffee house. You spilled a latte on my computer and then proceeded to fix it. It would be very hard to forget you. As to how I know about the ceremony--”

“Shush!” Roy whispered, silencing them. Footsteps echoed around them. They were coming closer, each step in time with Felicity’s beating heart. The men came around the corner and swiftly, Roy took them both out, knocking their heads together. One went down immediately. His companion, however, didn’t. Roy had to kick him in the face, and punch him when he went down to knock him out. 

“Why didn’t you just kill him?” Felicity bit her lip at her audacity. Roy looked back at her as they continued down the hallway. 

“I do still have some morals, Felicity. Besides, they were once my brothers-in-arms. It wouldn’t be right to kill them.”

“I hear things from the guards.” It took a minute for Felicity to catch up but eventually understood that Thea was picking back up their conversation. “They talk around me. I knew all about the girl that looked like me. I tried to tell my brother when he was first imprisoned next to me, but he couldn’t hear me. Couldn’t respond. He could only witness that I was still alive. 

As to how I know about the ceremony… let’s just say that I’ve seen it in action. It isn’t pretty. When Roy told me that they were going to do that to him, I knew we needed you. Just in case.”

“Just in case of what?” Thea didn’t respond. 

Even though they were wandering the halls, alert for any kind of threat, Felicity couldn’t focus. She kept getting distracted by the thoughts that were bumbling about in her head. 

Darhk had played them. He had made them think that Thea was dead, to wound Oliver even more, to drive a wedge between them. Darhk had hoped that Oliver would blame Felicity for Thea’s death, and still hold that precious bargaining chip.

Shado must have known this which is  why she had told Felicity to choose herself because Shado knew that Darhk was playing a long game, testing her. So while Felicity had thought she had failed the test, in reality she had passed it with flying colors. 

He had been testing her devotion to Oliver, how much she would sacrifice for him. Since she had chose the ultimate, being willing to die for him, Darhk had killed fake-Thea, sparing Felicity’s life.

Maybe Darhk did have a heart. 

Roy halted them at a corner. Peeking around it quickly, she spotted two HIVE agents. 

Only two.

Roy had the same suspicion she did.

“This is too easy.”

“What do you mean?”  Innocent Thea.

“Both of us are out of our cells. So why aren’t there alarms? Agents chasing after us. Why are there only two agents at the door, and two patrolling? Shouldn’t there be more?”

Roy nodded his agreement to her assessment. “This is probably a trap.”

Felicity grinned, one that she felt was slightly insane. “So let’s go spring this trap.”

She walked forward, alerting the agents. Before they could ready their guns, Roy shot them both, revealing a gun hidden on his person. The shots were loud, ringing Felicity’s ears.

Their element of surprise was gone. She reluctantly pushed open the double doors. 

Inside, the scene surprised her. Circling the room were agents, kneeling and head bowed. In the center was Oliver, grasping ropes as Darhk stood behind him, an iron brand in hand. He was chanting, and the HIVE tattoo on Oliver’s chest started glowing. 

Their entrance didn’t affect anything. No one blinked an eye. Oliver’s eyes were closed so he didn’t see them. 

Abruptly, Darhk stopped chanting. Silenced reigned in the room until Oliver collapsed, the ropes slipping from his clenched fists. 

“Oliver!” Felicity couldn’t stop herself from running to him, ignoring the surrounding men. “Oliver, “she whispered, crouching down, running her hand over his head. “Oliver,  _ please.”  _

Ever so slowly, he lifted his head and met her gaze. What she saw chilled her to the bone. She didn’t see the man she had come to love anymore. All she saw staring back at her was the beast, the monster inside. Oliver was gone. 

With a growl, he pounced on her, his hand closing over her throat. Black spots appeared, dancing before her eyes and she struggled against his powerful grasp. Suddenly he was gone and away, glaring at her from next to Darhk’s side. Felicity coughed and gagged, trying to deliver oxygen to her deprived lungs. She felt hands at her back and glanced quickly over her shoulder, identifying Thea.  But she just as soon looked back at Oliver, disbelieving that he didn’t  _ see  _ her. He always saw her, from that very first day. 

Now, there was only a predator staring back. 

Darhk laughed, a harsh jovial sound, a smug grin in place that Felicity itched to slap off his face.  “Isn’t this just wonderful? A perfect ending to this punishment, wouldn’t you say, Felicity?” Darhk reached behind him and handed Oliver a bow and quiver, whispering in his ear. Oliver then nocked an arrow and drew the string, aiming for her heart. Felicity breathed in, fear coursing through her but she stood her ground. Her Oliver wouldn’t’ do this. 

“First Helena. Then that Russian girl. And Thea.” 

“I’m right here.” The girl in question snarled from behind Felicity.  

“Oh but you see, Oliver doesn’t recognize you. The Oliver you knew is  _ gone.  _ He’s mine now, my plaything. A… pet, wouldn’t you say? See how obedient he is? Shoot Roy.”

Felicity and Thea cried out as Oliver changed his sights and let loose his arrow, the weapon burying itself in Roy’s leg. He fell to one knee, gasping in pain. Thea went to his side, but then were surrounded by Darhk’s men. 

“And now you.” Darhk continued his nefarious monologue. “Oliver got to watch them all die. And now it’s your turn. This last one is my favorite because it’s his hand. It’s by his actions that his greatest love gets to die. My revenge will be complete.”

Darhk smirked again then casually walked away, the doors opening with a flick of his fingers. “Oh. Kill her.” He called over his shoulder. 

Felicity jerked at his words, watching in almost slow motion as Oliver pulled an arrow from his quiver, aiming it at her heart. Thea and Roy both protest loudly, trying to break free of the myriad of men containing them. 

Felicity, holding her breath, approached Oliver, coming within a few feet of the arrow point. 

“Oliver.” She pleaded, desperately searching his eyes for anything. They stared back at her unseeing. His finger twitched and she ignored the impulse to squeeze her eyes tight and brace for her death. She forced herself to keep his gaze. Because of this, she saw, mere milliseconds before action, Thea’s voice mixed with Roy’s fading to the background, Oliver’s jaw tighten and emotion cross his face, a flicker of stubbornness before the arrow released. 

Then there was pain. (And an explosion, but that wasn’t super important.  She was supposed to be dead, not worried about something going BOOM!) 

A lot of pain.

More pain than she had expected.

And definitely not  _ where  _ she had expected. 

She reached up and touched her cheek. Her right cheek. Her fingers came back a bloody red, the sticky liquid sliding down her jaw. 

In a flash she was reminded of the first night she had met Oliver and how his arrow fletching had whipped her across her face in the same place. 

She looked up to see him moving, shooting the men that held Thea and Roy. One by one they fell, clutching their injuries. 

“Ollie!” Thea embraced her brother and he hugged her back. Felicity couldn’t move, couldn’t believe. She was frozen, seeing everything through a white filter, a hazy reality. 

“How are you alive?” He asked, running his hands over her hair. 

“It’s a long story. Basically, that wasn’t me that Darhk killed.” Thea replied. Oliver let Thea go and turned in Felicity’s direction.

It wasn’t until Oliver took several steps towards her that she thawed, her feet propelling her forward to his waiting arms, encircling him, dragging him to her and never wanting to let go. 

“Oliver.” She breathed. 

“Felicity.” He whispered above her before she felt him tilt her head up and meet her lips in a searing kiss, one that left her breathless. Her blood roared and rushed, a heady feeling thrum her nerves. Her tongue licked his sealed lips but instead of giving her entrance, he pulled back, pecking her apologetically.

“Sorry.” He uttered to her disappointed groan. “We really need to leave.” To accompany his words the floor heaved under their feet, and Felicity had to grasp Oliver to keep her balance. 

“What was that?” Felicity asked. Oliver ignored her, picking up Roy in a fireman’s carry, despite his protests that he could walk.

“Come on!” 

“Ollie? What’s going on?” They left the chamber and followed Oliver at his bruising pace.  Oliver glanced over at Felicity. 

“When I shot at Felicity, I instead hit the idol behind her, the idol that holds all of Darhk’s power. This place is built with his magic, and now that that magic is gone, it’s going to come crumbling down.”

Oliver took a sharp left, almost bumping into Felicity. 

“But what about Darhk? Won’t he escape?”  She couldn't help but wonder. 

Oliver shook his head, forging forward. “No. Darhk is old; well over a hundred years. His magic kept him alive this long. Just like this place, his body will crumple without the support of supernatural means.”

“How do you know for sure? Oliver, you could be wrong.” Just the thought of Darhk living and continuing his terrifying presence made up Felicity’s mind. “I’m going back to check.”

“Felicity! No!” She took off in the other direction, trying to remember every turn they had taken. 

“Roy, get Thea out of here. Now!” She could hear Oliver behind her. “Felicity, wait! Stop!” Oliver’s pounding footsteps approached quickly. His hand grasped her wrist, spinning her.  “Felicity, please. It’s not safe.”

“It’s not safe to leave him alive. We didn’t even check. Now I’m not going to let that son of bitch live, so are you coming with me or not?”

Oliver sighed exasperated, but took off running, tugging her behind him. They ran back through the chamber, stopping only to pick up the bow Oliver had dropped and rushing out the other side. Oliver took them down two more hallways until he burst through a door. On the other side was Darhk, the white haired villain sipping wine. 

“Oh. How quaint. She’s not  dead. Tell me Oliver, before you kill me as I suspect that’s why you’re here, how did you escape the mind control?” 

Oliver drew his bow for the third time.  “I’d rather not.”

“Oh please. I’m dying to know. One last request?”

Oliver released his arrow, hitting Darhk in the chest. He gasped in pain, but he was still alive. 

“You made me into a monster, Darhk. A person that killed for the sake of killing. A savage beast.  I was lost, doing your bidding, living your punishment. What you, or I, never counted on was her. She found me, loved me, and brought me out of the darkness. You ask me how I resisted the mind control?” 

Oliver drew another arrow. “Simple. You gave me a bow and told me to kill the one person that saved me, that saw the darkness within me and loved me anyway. I am a beast, Darhk, I have only one master. And it isn’t you.” 

He let the arrow fly. It penetrated Darhk’s throat, severing his spine and the man slumped against the chair. Blood leaked out and he gurgled, choking on his own blood. Darhk then stilled, dead. His body  dissolved to dust. 

Felicity went to approach the chair, to feel the strange substance on her fingers but Oliver drew her away. “Felicity we have to go! That building is going to be reduced to rubble, just like him.”

First things first. 

“Hey. I love you. And you’re not a beast, Oliver, not anymore.” 

He smiled before kissing her, hard and fast before breathing against her lips, “I love you too. Now let’s go.” 

Finally convinced that Darhk was dead, that Oliver’s problems were behind them, Felicity followed him out into the light. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Please Note that there is no plan to continue at this time.**
> 
>  
> 
> Other than that how do you feel about the ending? Where you surprised at Samantha's tale? That Oliver broke his curse? That Damien Darhk is dead!? Tell me below!
> 
> OR you can visit me on tumblr [geniewithwifi](http://www.geniewithwifi.tumblr.com)


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